


Once in a Blue Moon

by Kerichi



Series: Tonks and Remus Tales [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Mystery, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 63,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerichi/pseuds/Kerichi
Summary: Tonks is rich in family and friends, but the wages of a new Auror keep her short of funds. A side job brings something into her life money can't buy.





	1. New Moon, New Beginnings

 

I wished somebody had told me the little old lady claiming disability had a grandson built like a troll. Ducking the large, hairy fist swung in my direction, an ungainly dive and roll was my only option. Thank Merlin the space beside the block of flats had been swept recently. In a voice a harpy would envy, the witch screeched for "Diddums" to move and give her wand a clear shot. I used mine to stupefy the pair of frauds.

It was a relief to find my goblin spy camera and its photo of the elderly woman traipsing off to New Moon Madness Bingo was still in one piece. Uncle Morty had promised a substantial fee if I could deliver the incriminating photograph by midnight. Seems the company the old witch was suing wanted to wave it in her solicitor's face at a conference in the morning. His regular agents were on other cases, so I got the lucrative assignment. Being a Metamorphmagus came in handy, since Auror pay matched rank, and I had a shiny new badge. A side job was a necessity.

Once out of the alley, I morphed my features from nondescript plainness back into the heart-shaped face genetics, not magic, had given me. The familiar sensation of my appearance magically returning to normal rushed through my body. It tingled.

I strode to the kerb and hailed a squire cab. Apparating was instant transportation, but I needed time to catch my breath and write a report.

The cabbie asked the destination. Hearing the answer, a wide smile lit the man's dark, bearded face. A Jamaican accent gave his words a musical lilt. "I've been dere. That Morty, he got da evidence that my lady was cheatin', and I won dis cab in da settlement!"

After returning the man's smile, I stared out the window. Late night London was a different world than day. It was a lot less crowded, and a lot more interesting. This particular evening at the beginning of September was mild and dry.

I wondered where my cousin Sirius was hiding. Strange to think that it had been over a year now since he'd escaped from Azkaban. Every time I passed one of his wanted posters, I smiled a bit. I remembered my older cousin as one of the few relatives Mum had invited over for tea when I was small. He would play Exploding Snap with me, and always managed to shuffle the cards so I would win. My folks and I still held to our belief in his innocence. Hoping that wherever he was, Sirius was safe and happy, I gazed down at the paperwork in my lap, indifferent to the scenery whizzing by.

Squire cabs were much speedier than Muggle ones and always in demand. Once, I had to make do with the non-magical variety and had sworn to the driver that running would've been faster. The inability to squeeze through traffic, literally, was a handicap for un-enchanted vehicles. Dad said Muggles have a saying, ignorance is bliss. Not for me. I'd been stupidly happy before. It didn't last. These days, I preferred smart and mostly content.

I'd finished scratching out a report by the time the cab pulled up to a familiar corner in a wizard section of the city. A flickering illumination sign advertised the Blue Moon Agency. It was housed within the door of the building neighbours called an eyesore. I grinned up at the dimly lit second floor windows of my flat. Faded paint, grimy windows and all, this place was home.

When I released the wards on the agency’s front door, a weird shiver crawled down my spine. Glancing around the empty reception area, I shrugged it off. Maybe I was just cold.

The darkness didn't help. Orion Mortimer Black would give a bloke in need the coat off his back, but begrudged the illumination company every Galleon paid for an orb, candle, or torch. His half-sister, my mother Andromeda, wasn't a skinflint like Morty, yet preached the value of saving constantly. I was a sore trial and disappointment to her, unconverted to thriftiness. Somebody in my family had to keep the economy going.

The corridor leading to the offices from the reception area was spartan. Only black and white photographs recording my uncle's travels in exotic locales enlivened the shadowed walls. I made a conscious effort to tread quietly. After almost failing stealth during Auror training, my footsteps since then have been mostly silent—unless I tripped over something, or brushed against a fragile item that fell and broke. That ability gave me a moment, standing in the doorway of Morty's office, to recover from the shock of seeing the man seated in a battered leather chair within.

Evan Rosier the second, alumni of Slytherin House, son of a Death Eater and my ex, lounged elegantly, making desultory conversation. I acknowledged grudgingly that for a lying cheat, Evan had lovely manners. He'd chat civilly with anyone, even people he thought Muggle-loving scum.

Over a year had passed since my he’d tried to sway his naive Hufflepuff fiancée to the Dark Side, as Dad put it, and I'd seen past the blue-eyed, fair haired looks and charm to the real man beneath the façade. Evan still did a bang-up job at pretending to be just a wealthy young businessman, but I was no longer impressed. The ugly look and uglier words I received when giving back the engagement ring tarnished that golden image forever.

My uncle chuckled politely when his visitor made a dry comment about Ireland's luck in winning the recent Quidditch World Cup. I smirked. Evan had probably bet on Bulgaria.

Morty raked a hand through salt-and-pepper spiky hair. His dark eyes brightened to see me. "Tonks! I knew you'd come through, luv." He gestured to his client. "Rosier Industries is the company that hired us."

I hadn't thought the pure-blood had come to visit me. The  _Daily Prophet's_  society section always included photos of galas he attended with his new fiancée Priscilla 'Prissy' Parkinson. Golden eyebrows rose at seeing my lips twist to suppress amusement at the bizarre thought of Evan calling Prissy his pretty pug-face. There was something darkly satisfying about knowing that not only did you break off the relationship, but the ex was with a woman that both looked and acted like a bitch.

I handed over the film to my uncle, acknowledging Evan with a slight nod as I picked up a heavy sack of Galleons. The money made the knowledge that I'd inadvertently helped someone who wouldn't get my spit if he caught on fire easier to swallow. My best mate Julia and I had been planning on hitting Diagon Alley on a shopping spree whenever I could afford to go. That time was now.

"Nymphadora."

I schooled my features to hide the irritation he no doubt intended by using my despised first name. I wasn't a big believer in speaking civilly to people I loathed. My parents raised me with the Muggle creed of, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

I had to bite my tongue a lot.

My ex was as smooth as ever. "You've changed your hair. It's interesting. How have you been?"

I gazed over the prat's shoulder at my uncle to avoid staring in disbelief. Did he really think I wanted to stand around and chat? I said, "Fine. Bye."

My attempt to leave was prevented by a hand placed on my arm. When I'd been a seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that patrician, manicured hand had made my pulse race. Now, it made my skin crawl. What a difference a few years made.

I pulled away. "I can't stay and catch up on old times, Evan. I have to get up early in the morning. Goodbye."

Classically handsome features shifted into condescending amusement. "I heard that you made it through Auror training. Caught any bad wizards yet?"

The mockery in his voice triggered my temper, which admittedly wasn't hard to do. "Dark wizards, actually, so tell your pals to watch their step."

Cool blue eyes turned glacial. "Rosier Industries has no association with such persons, and anyone saying otherwise will regret it."

I shook my head at the bold-faced lie. "I'll leave you to show the client out," I told Morty. "Goodnight."

The men were left behind without a backward glance. Upstairs in my small, untidy flat, reaction set in. I made a beeline for the kitchen to make tea. I sipped it while watching Evan leave the building. Good riddance. He glanced up at my windows. I knew he couldn't actually see me, but he waved anyway, the arrogant git.

A series of knocks jolted me out of my reverie. I turned from the window. "Come on in, Morty."

He stood in the doorway, cajoling smile in place. "Don’t be angry. I didn't think the man himself would pick up the film." Pleased at the nod he received, Morty got to the real reason he'd stopped by instead of continuing on to his flat next door. "I need your help tomorrow night. Client's willing to pay double for the short notice."

I wasn't mercenary, but the thought of how pleased Mum would be if I told her I'd actually built up my savings made me ask, "What's the job?"

Family members always blamed my mischievous streak on Uncle Morty. Viewing the gleam in his dark gaze, my mouth curved in automatic response. We're a lot alike, having personality traits and first names that make us cringe in common.

"A new client suspects the husband of cheating. He always goes to meet the boys for a drink after work. The wife's not buying the story anymore and wants us do a matrimonial enquiry; send a decoy his way." He winked. "See if her husband nibbles the bait."

I rolled my eyes in the manner that had earned me detention from Professor Snape many a time in Potions. "Why do I always get pegged for slag duty? Cami or Lisa could do it just as well."

Trying and failing to look remorseful, the conniver replied, "Neither one of them is free." He gave up his attempt at sincerity and jibed, "Some of my agents actually have private lives." He held up his hands. "All right, I won't tell you that you need to start dating again." He grinned when I flipped him off. "The spouse is a Ministry official in his mid-thirties. He pretends to be one of those impoverished intellectual types with a sad smile." He laughed shortly. "Believe it or not, the wife said she'd heard women actually proposition him!"

I sighed heavily. "Fine, what's his name and which type does the cheat go for?"

"Now, Tonks, it's not established that he's a cheater." Morty chuckled at my expression. "Green-eyed redheads and here's the dicey bit, the client wouldn't give names." Holding up his hand to stop my protest, he wheedled, "She was one of those society witches who live in fear of ending up in the  _Intruder_. The bird paid the Galleons in advance, and how many blokes could possibly fit that description?"

I admitted, "Not many. All right, I'll do it, but I want my share deposited in Gringotts first thing tomorrow morning."

Morty teased as he headed out of the flat, "Why's that? Afraid you'll spend it?"

Refusing to dignify that cheeky and accurate remark, silence was my only answer. Incorrigible, he snickered while closing the door.

 

The next night, after a day of investigating reports of Dark wizardry that all proved false, I got ready for my side job. I stared into the mirror and morphed my face shape to oval, with fuller lips. Powdering my slim, straight nose, I decided to change it as well. Noses were fiddly, and therefore more of a challenge. I smiled with pride at achieving a cute, tip-tilted one. Shoulder length, fiery hair completed the transformation. Wriggling into a form-fitting little black dress, the new reflection blew me a kiss. It was almost disturbing how easily and well I morphed into a slag. Maybe I did need to start dating again.

The Black Wolf tavern was within walking distance, but I Apparated. Inside, the pub was dim and filled with a mixed clientele. I sized up the patrons. Only one fit the description. The man was sitting in a booth, reading a book. An almost empty pint of beer on the table in front of him indicated that he'd been there awhile.

I sashayed over, closely scrutinising the target. He wore shabby robes covering a brown jumper that looked knit by someone with more enthusiasm than skill. The ensemble looked good on him, but most things would. There was an air of grace and refinement about him that had nothing to do with money and everything to do with class. Brown hair was streaked with grey. The wizard's face was handsome, intellectual. Lines at the corners of his eyes made the man appear older, world-weary. His gaze lifted. Light brown eyes met mine. There was a faint sadness in his smile. My stomach clenched with unwanted attraction.

I forced painted lips to smile beguilingly. "May I buy you a drink?"

Unexpectedly, he looked taken aback. "Me?"

Was this part of the routine, to appear oblivious of his appeal in order to feel blameless when women threw themselves at him? Bright tresses were slid back to reveal my bare shoulder. The "Professor," as I thought of him, swallowed hard and waved to the opposite bench when I nodded. He said with a half-smile, "If you'd like—I mean, please join me."

Usually, I plopped inelegantly, but that wasn't exactly seductive. This time I slithered onto the seat, leaning forward to smile. "It's so nice to have a handsome man to talk to. I'm Lora, and you are . . . ?"

My outstretched hand was held briefly in a warm clasp, and then released. I tried not to feel disappointed at the loss of contact.

He smiled while answering, "Remus."

Caught off guard, I laughed. Not elegantly, but the suspected adulterer seemed to like it, grinning with appropriately wolfish charm. "What's so amusing?"

He knew, by the twinkle in his eyes. I played along. "Remus, in The Black Wolf Tavern—you don't have a brother named Romulus, do you?" That breathy, flirtatious quality to my voice wasn't affected. I was finding it way too easy to put the moves on him. Because making progress was part of the game, I disregarded my quickening pulse.

His smile turned reminiscent. "No, just a mother who loved Latin and irony." When my brows arched, he explained with a wistful smile that, even knowing he'd probably used it on loads of women, got to me, "My last name is Lupin."

"Cool."

A bark of laughter greeted my use of a favourite schoolgirl term. Oh, who was I kidding, it was still an all-purpose vocabulary word.

Time seemed to stand still as we sat gazing into each other's eyes. Warning bells started ringing. Remus wasn't anything like I'd expected. His gaze stayed on mine instead of drifting down to my exposed cleavage. We chatted about this and that in the usual getting to know someone way.

He was reading a Sherlock Holmes novel and told me a bit about it. I made all the appropriate noises, but other than “Hound” and “Baskervilles,” the rest was goblin to me. The timbre of his voice was so pleasant. It soothed and stimulated at the same time. If he'd been one of my professors at school, I would've mooned over him so bad.

"I've bored you, haven't I?" he asked wryly.

My cheeks heated. Hopefully, it wouldn't be noticeable in low light and under the dramatic makeup applied as part of my guise. "No, of course not. I've enjoyed listening to you."

That wasn't a lie, and the fact was starting to alarm me. Remus was handsome, intelligent, with a kind, self-deprecating wit and a mouth that was the first one I'd really noticed, or wanted to kiss, since breaking my engagement. I was torn between wanting him to be faithful and hoping he'd move to my side of the booth and snog me senseless.

He shook his head. "I don't usually run on," Remus said, "but you've made me feel so at ease, and our conversation has been so enjoyable." He paused and then said, "Would you care to meet for coffee or tea sometime? Tomorrow perhaps?"

I was guiltily thrilled he wanted to see me again, even though I didn't plan on doing more than writing his offer down in my report. Before I could decline, a high-pitched giggle drew my attention to a redhead sitting on a wizard's lap at a table in the opposite corner. The couple hadn't been there earlier. When I saw the bloke with long hair, handsome, weak features, and a sad smile, my stomach flip flopped.

I looked into Remus's eyes. They weren't hiding anything—especially his attraction to me. I said numbly, "You don't come here looking for birds on the pull, do you?"

He appeared suspended between laughter and offence. "No, I'm not one for casual encounters, if that's what you mean."

Mumbling "Sorry," I picked up the clutch purse near my hand, lifted it, and pressed the small button activating the spy camera inside. Assignment over, I lurched to my feet and all but ran from the tavern.

Outside, a firm, gentle grasp halted my flight.

"Lora, what's wrong?"

Something inside me snapped. I tugged free to grab his robes with both hands and drag him closer for a kiss that made me shake. His lips moved against mine, and I forgot that this was supposed to be a snog and run. The voice of reason was ignored while other needs took over. His brown strands were silky beneath my fingers. One of Remus's hands curved around the nape of my neck in order to deepen the kiss. The other slid down my back and pressed me closer. My brain was fuzzily trying to remember why this wasn't a good idea when he smiled against my mouth.

Shifting to nuzzle my neck, he growled softly, "Your skin smells so good, clean and without perfume. I think I'd recognise your scent anywhere."

The thought gave me a thrill that scared me so much I shoved him away.

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

Panicked, I blurted, "I'm not Lora. I'm not some slag who's trying to have it off with you, Lupin. I was acting decoy on an assignment. I mistook you for someone else, so just forget this ever happened, OK?"

Turning my back was hard, but I'd made a vow over a bottle of Firewhiskey more than a year ago to run, not walk, the next time I started to fall for a guy at first sight. By the stars above, I was going to keep it.

Preparing to Apparate, my body tensed when he promised softly, "I won't forget, and I hope that you don't either."

Why did I look back?


	2. The Pull of the Moon

 

 

Over a week had gone by since I'd met a man in a pub who had shaken my resolve to never jump headlong into a relationship again. When I'd left Remus, he'd said that he hoped I wouldn't forget him. I hadn't, and not for lack of trying. During the days that followed, I threw myself into Auror duties in a way that I never had before. Extra assignments from Morty that would've been passed on previously were accepted gratefully. Each day, the work kept my mind off unforgettable brown eyes that were old and young, cheerful yet sad.

At night, though, my dreams were haunted by the look I'd seen in those intriguing eyes when I'd turned back before Apparating. It was as though Remus was accustomed to having people walk away, and he accepted it. For now.

Broken sleep was starting to wear on me. Over lunch in the Ministry cafeteria, my fellow Auror and best mate since Hogwarts stated bluntly, "You're narky today. Looks like you haven't slept much, either, or did you put purple shadow under your eyes instead of on your eyelids by mistake?"

"Ha Ha, Julia…and I thought the colour matched my eyes and hair perfectly."

The petite blonde who always found her tiny size of clothing and shoes on sale, lucky witch, said cheekily, "It does. Also makes you look like some tragic heroine pining away for love." Planting her elbows on the table in a way her pureblood mother would abhor, green eyes glinted. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

Appetite gone, I shoved my half-eaten sandwich away before shrugging. "No guy."

Jul started to open her mouth, probably to call me a liar, when she froze, staring past my shoulder. When I tried to turn to see what she was gawking at, manicured fingernails dug into my arm. "Don't look now, but Kingsley Shacklebolt is headed this way!"

Nothing made me want to turn and look more than someone telling me not to. In school, professors often wrote about my conduct, “lacks the ability to behave herself.” Living down to those perceptions, I turned. Julia was right. Shacklebolt was moving toward our table.

Kingsley was a legend; he always got his man. Women often tried to get him. Tall, dark, and handsome, that white smile against dark brown skin had caused more than one witch to wish the good man would go bad. Dressed in black Auror robes, with a small gold hoop earring giving him a piratical look, the man was cool.

He stared down at me impassively. "I need to speak with you."

For a brief moment, the look on Julia's face was a silent, _Oh my gods, is this the guy?_

I shook my head and stood. "I'll talk to you later, Jul."

Following Shacklebolt up to his office, I gazed around curiously. It seemed the “he papers the cubicle walls with wanted posters” rumour was true. So was the one about the map of the world. Taking the seat indicated, I sat patiently while the man took out a Sneakoscope and placed it on the desk in front of him after waving his wand. The noise of co-workers became muted.

Privacy assured, the Auror looked at me steadily. "I've been keeping an eye on you, Tonks."

Wow. I never wore makeup to work either. How flattering.

Dark eyes noted my smirk. He returned it. "Your attitude could use improvement, and your methods are routinely unorthodox, but I believe that you'll be an exceptional Auror in time."

He didn't drag me here for a pep talk. I used one of the standard tactics on him. Drawn-out silence made people nervous, made them talk. After a few minutes, Kingsley smiled. "I knew I hadn't made an error nominating you, girl."

"For what, Miss Congeniality?"

The man had a rich, dark laugh. If another wizard's laughter hadn't already woven its spell over me, I might've been tempted to fraternise. As it was, I grinned appreciatively.

He said, "Perhaps you've heard rumours that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wasn't truly defeated, and that his followers are preparing for his return." I nodded, trying to breathe normally. Had they found out about Evan and his friends? Would I be branded by past association as one of them? Was I about to be sacked? Kingsley lowered his voice. "I belong to a covert organization of wizards and witches that believe the rumours are true. We do what we can to gain information about Dark wizards and their plans."

I relaxed, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. This was something entirely different, and extremely welcome. Kingsley leaned forward. "The Underground is in need of a witch with your talents and principles, but it's your decision whether or not to accept the invitation to join us."

He handed me a card. It had a time and address on it. Out of habit, I memorised the information before incinerating the rectangle with a spell. Shacklebolt nodded approvingly. "Come to that address tonight. Secrecy, of course, is vital. I'm trusting that you will share our conversation with no one else."

The gravity of his tone made me feel like I was being offered membership in a superhero club. I could be Metamorphic Girl in sparkly pink spandex. Heroically stifling a giggle over the thought, I said earnestly, "Sure. I had plans, but I'll work around them, and I won't tell a soul."

Dark eyes were already scanning a report he'd lifted from a pile on the crowded desk. Absently, he murmured, "Return to work."

So much for keeping an eye on me. Shrugging, I followed instructions to the letter for once.

 

Later that afternoon, my Gran opened the door to her flat and cried, "Nym! I didn't expect you for another hour. Oh my heavens, did I confuse the time?"

I kissed her soft, wrinkled cheek and confessed, "No. I have an appointment this evening, so I hoped you wouldn't mind me coming round earlier." In the lounge, I teased, "You don't have a gentleman friend hidden away somewhere, do you?"

Gran patted her silvery bun self-consciously and waved me over to the sofa while she bustled into the kitchen. "Go on with you. Mr. Santini keeps asking to escort me to the senior centre, but I'm still thinking on it."

She returned with a plate of biscuits and a tall glass of fizzy lemonade that she set on the low table in front of me. She frowned. "Some of those women on our programme should do the same." Gran sat in her comfortable swivel chair and reached for her cup of tea and the remote control. "Always going from man to man." She clucked her tongue. "I don't approve of that, dear."

Gran always said she didn’t approve the behaviour of the women on “our programme.” Ever since I was a young girl, whenever my parents would take me to my Muggle grandmother's to play she'd let me watch her favourite programme. EastEnders hadn't really changed that much in all the years we'd been viewing the drama. Women still made bad choices in their romantic relationships. It was sad, really, in a happy, guilty-pleasure kind of way. I never told anyone that I enjoyed drinking Muggle beverages and watching their “Goggle Box” as Dad called it. Gran said it was our little secret.

"That dress she has on…shocking!"

I rather liked the halter necked minidress myself, and suspected that Gran did too. The dark blue eyes my dad and I had both inherited sparkled. She always wore brightly coloured housedresses and from Dad's stories, had been mad about dancing in her youth. It was fun to pick at character failings, though. Especially their fashion sense, or lack thereof. A scene later, I scorned gleefully, "Look at those shoes!"

When the bell rang a while later, Gran answered the door and smiled charmingly at the delivery boy. He grinned at her. "See you next week, Mrs. Tonks!"

Pizza was another tradition between us. Gran had always wanted me to experience teenaged Muggle customs, so she'd made sure I went to the cinema, video arcades, and ate pizza. I haven't seen a film in ages and never want to set foot in an arcade again, but pizza is brilliant. No wonder she's my favourite grandmother. As the years passed, the toppings that didn't upset Gran's digestion became fewer and fewer. We were down to extra cheese, but I wasn't choosy. It was the company more than the food that I enjoyed—until she brought up an old friend.

"Last week at the corner market I ran into Rory Farrell, of all people. He's grown up to be such a gentleman, helping me with my bags and asking about you, dear." Eyes twinkling, she said, "He's working for his uncle now."

"That's nice."

I was being polite. Gran didn't need to know that _gentleman_ Rory's uncle proved that crime did pay, some of the time. When I was fifteen, I spent the summer with Gran and met an Irish boy who was the epitome of a charming rogue. For a couple of months, I was bewitched by Black Irish good looks and charisma. Then I watched my boyfriend savagely beat a man who owed his Uncle Colin money. He became my ex-boyfriend.

"Are you keeping company with a young man, sweetheart?"

If I didn’t say yes, she’d offer to invite Rory over one night to talk over old times. I smiled brightly. "Yes, Gran, his name's…Remus…and he's…great." I stared off, remembering. Unconsciously, my voice became dreamy. "Handsome, smart, makes me laugh, honourable . . . ." I trailed off, cheeks heating.

Gran observed with a twinkle, "My, he sounds like a keeper. Has he met your parents?"

"No! Gran, I only met the man a week ago. We're in the get to know you phase." I tried not to sound hysterical. "It's nowhere near meet the family time yet."

She patted my hand consolingly. "Just be yourself, dear, and in time he'll come around."

The chiming of her mantel clock saved me from making up any more half-lies. I jumped up, gave her a kiss and promised to return next week. Edgy from thinking about past and present romantic fiascos, I took the stairs instead of the lift and went around the back of the block of flats to Apparate to the warehouse district.

 

I'd only missed the address by a couple of buildings. The one the card specified looked rundown, unused for more than long-term storage. Overhead, the first quarter moon dominated the night sky. Knocking on the side door made a sensation like a static charge travel through my knuckles and up my arm. The door opened. Tall, dark, and serious stated, "You're late. The meeting is about to start."

"Nice to see you, too, Kingsley, and I'm not late, you lot began early." I brushed past him. "Got a lot of old-timers wanting to get home before they get too tired to Apparate, huh?"

The bad thing about warehouses is that voices carry. So my flippant words were heard by the dozen or more people gathered in one corner. A few faces were smiling, but most were frowning. It was an interesting group. There were Ministry types, dodgy sorts and even a few older witches and wizards.

I recognised the witch in her late twenties striding toward me with a big smile. She was one of Morty's top agents. We got along famously and she can't stand her name either. Camillia Llewellyn, called Cami, envied my ability to change my hair on a whim. Hers was straight and spell resistant, when she'd wanted wild curls. I'd told her to be glad it was a great shade of brown, like Swiss Chocolate. I wished I had some chocolate to counter the dark glances I was receiving.

Cami hugged me, grinning. "Merlin, I never dreamt I'd see you here, Tonks. Kingsley's got a straightforward style, and you, well, are you."

A pleasant bark of laughter silenced the cheeky comeback I'd been about to make. I was too busy fighting the urge to run. I recognised that laugh. It belonged to the wizard several metres away whose face I hadn't seen when first scanning the room. Remus Lupin. With a tense smile, I stepped forward to join the group. Casually, I manoeuvred behind a man with a square jaw and thick, fair hair. Kingsley stood beside me. From my cover, I slanted a stealthy glance.

Why was I so fixated? Remus was at least a dozen years older than me. He wasn't overtly charismatic like Rory, or gorgeous like Evan, but something about him made my heart pound. The more I furtively peeked and tried to analyse his attractiveness, the harder it was to remember why I wasn't going to do anything about it.

An older witch wrapped in an emerald green shawl over a high-necked black gown called the meeting to order. Kingsley leaned close to whisper that her name was Emmeline Vance, and that she'd fought against Death Eaters back when it could mean the execution of your family to do so. When the group she'd belonged to disbanded, Vance had refused to knit by the fire waiting to be called back into action. She'd formed her own group, determined to do what she could to counter those who followed Dark ways.

I listened respectfully while she explained that random surveillance of known supporters of You-Know-Who was vital to the Underground's efforts to oppose those claiming to be agents of the Dark Lord.

I had the worst urge to giggle over the idea of Nymphadora Tonks, secret agent. It was hard to envision, but then again, nobody else in the room looked like Bond, James Bond, either. Maybe that was why this Underground was still alive instead of cursed into oblivion.

_"Nymphadora Tonks!"_

Shite, I'd been zoning out and had absolutely no clue why people were staring at me. I threw Kingsley a panicked glance. His eyes smiled while he said in his deep, solemn voice, "I have invited my young associate to join our ranks. Her Auror training and abilities as a Metamorphmagus will be a tremendous asset. Who will second the motion?"

"I second the motion."

I'd have to buy Cami lunch for that. Glancing around, I saw heads nodding. I was in. The discussion moved on to another topic. Was there no secret handshake, oaths of blood, or anything else suitably dramatic? How disappointing.

My eyes flickered sideways and met those of Remus Lupin. He smiled kindly. I turned away in panic. I immediately realised that someone who had nothing to hide wouldn't act that way and glanced back. His head was cocked to the side in puzzlement. I tried to look nonchalant and friendly. His eyes narrowed. The room and everyone else in it seemed to disappear when his nostrils flared in a deep inhalation. The wizard took a step forward. I took a step back.

_I think I'd recognize your scent anywhere._

This was not happening. Remus was not tracking me down by my scent like some kind of predator. He was just . . . doing some breathing exercises while padding my way with a wolfish gleam in his eye. I tried not to look in his direction as I strolled around shaking hands and making nice after the meeting. My shoulder blades began prickling horribly. I had to take a peek.

Remus was talking to Kingsley, in the exact spot I'd been standing. He inhaled sharply, his gaze capturing mine. I had two options, fight or flight. Normally, I was a fighter, but in this place, with this man, I made a strategic retreat. And a mistake—I glanced back again. He was closer. I was torn between my voice of reason saying, _Oh no_ and the reckless part of me looking at longish brown hair framing a masculine face that was much too appealing and saying, _Oh yeah_.

Indecision cost me. I'd almost made it to the door when I took a last look. Emmeline Vance had moved to Remus's side. She noticed my hesitation and called, "Miss Tonks, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

I'd tried to flee. Now I'd have to fight my way out of this mess. I didn't go up and jinx him. Instead, I went passive aggressive and pretended that we'd never met before. Pasting on the look I'd perfected while avoiding blame for blowing spit balls in school, I gave a small, insincere smile while the stately witch introduced me to Remus J. Lupin.

I said breezily, "Hullo, I'm Tonks. Nice to meet you. Wish I could stay and chat, but it's getting late, and work starts early."

"Have we met before?" His gaze was uncertain, as if his senses were giving him conflicting information.

My eyes widened in feigned surprise. "I don't think so, unless—are you a friend of my parents?"

His lips curved with wry humour. "No. I'm a bit older than you, but not that much."

One of his hands gestured deprecatingly at his grey-streaked hair while he spoke. He'd done that the last time too. Without thinking, I repeated the same words I'd said before. "Premature grey looks good on men."

"Thank you." The smile curving Remus's lips told me he remembered everything. "Is this your true appearance? It looks good on you."

"Erm, thanks. Again, nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin, and you, too, Mrs. Vance. I'll see you around. Goodnight."

Before I could make my awkward exit, Emmeline said, "Please stay a few more minutes, my dear. This may be short notice, but there is a matter that requires your unique abilities."

My foolish heart sped up again. Did that count as aerobic exercise? It might be worth the stress if madly fluttering butterflies kept my abdomen toned without sit ups. Standing next to Remus while the older witch began to speak, I did some deep breathing of my own. He smelled way too good. Sort of musky. _Oh, yeah_. Mrs. Vance explained that the man beside me would be my partner. I stared.

_Oh no._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use canon details as much as possible, but admit to adding elements like her Gran and the Underground that aren't out of the realm of possibility in order to tell a story. I utilized HP sites, too, but disagree with the Lexicon definition of a werewolf, which states "At any other time, a werewolf is a completely normal human." In the books, Lupin clearly becomes more tired and peaky as the moon waxes and healthier looking when it wanes. Sorry, that's not normal, so I feel justified (with the examples of Fenrir and Bill) in taking the viewpoint that Remus has other unique qualities as well. ; )


	3. Dancing with the Moon

 

Visiting my parents was like a double-edged sword. Whenever life was just about to drive me spare, I'd drop by my childhood home, and things got put back into perspective. The downside was that Mum's way too sharp, and always wants to fix her little girl's problems. Unconditional love, I appreciated. Mother knows best advice—not so much.

"So, you tell your grandmother about your new boyfriend, but your parents, they don't need to know?"

About to take a bite of dessert, I placed my unused fork down on the lace tablecloth tatted by my great-grandmother Tonks. I fought the urge to jump to my feet, yell, “Mother, how could you?” and storm from the room, overturning my chair and slamming the door on the way out.

That wouldn't be a mature response to Mum's question, even though it had got me out of explaining several dodgy episodes in my youth. The little voice that presumptuously calls itself reason reminded me that in some countries, I'd barely be allowed to buy a drink. Ignoring it, I said calmly, "So, you dropped by Gran's and interrogated her, did you? What exactly did she say?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Nymphadora."

"Don't stick your nose in my business, Andromeda."

My father cleared his throat, the peacemaker as always. "Andie, didn't we agree to let Nym tell us about this Remus fellow in her own time?"

A blush made my face heat. Two sets of eyes observed me with interest. Dad's broad, good-humoured face was smiling indulgently. Mum's Mona Lisa smile was harder to decipher. Tucking a strand of hair back into her tidy French twist, the heart-shaped face that I'd inherited along with what Dad called terrier-like determination softened when she replied, "Yes we did, Ted." Her lips pursed. "Thank you for reminding me." Catching my grin at her dry tone, she arched a meticulously plucked brow. "If I truly thought that day would ever come, I wouldn't have asked, dear."

Rationalizations never bothered me when I was the one using them to justify my actions. Mum's always irritated me. Trying to envision a reed bending before the wind, I said, "I'll tell you what I told Gran. I met a nice guy, we're still getting to know each other, and if it gets serious, I'll invite him over to meet you, OK?"

Mum took a dainty bite of dessert and paused to enjoy her conjuring skills before asking offhandedly, "Does this Remus have a last name?"

Stuffing a large spoonful of chocolate mousse into my mouth, I took my time making appreciative noises and swallowing before smiling. "That's on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know unless I bring him round."

An exasperated gleam lit my mother's dark eyes before she shrugged and finished her dessert. Dad shared a story about a couple who wanted copper pipes because they were more aesthetically pleasing, even though no one would ever see them behind the walls. Plumbing was a lucrative business in a city like London. Dad's clients ranged from Muggles to wizards, with the odd goblin or squib now and again. Some purebloods like my ex looked down on him as a Mudblood liberal, but my father had more friends than I could count. His reputation as an honest businessman might not impress the Wizarding world's high society, but it always made me proud.

In the kitchen afterwards, Mum made coffee while Dad and I cleared the dishes. Actually, he used his wand to work the cleaning spells while I put the dishes away. Domestic charms weren’t my forte, which is why no one ever had dinner at my flat. I'd have to clean and conjure. Why bother when there were so many good restaurants?

Dad hummed a song while he dried the dishes. I snickered.

"C’mon, Dora, you know it’s your favourite,” he said with a grin.

Mum tried to look disapproving, but her lips twitched.  Dad took that as encouragement to sing  _Our House_ , a song that had been our favourite ever since we first heard the band that later turned Muggle on the Wizarding Wireless Network. Dad grabbed Mum's hand and began dancing her around the floor. I jumped around them like I had before my age reached double digits.

Walking me to the parlour fireplace shortly afterwards, my mother smiled affectionately and ruffled the midnight blue hair that matched my eyes tonight. " _Madness_  was an appropriate name for that group."

When she kissed my cheek, I grinned. "I will miss you in lots of ways."

Dad chuckled. Mum tried to smooth down my hair. "I wish you could stay longer."

"Me too, but I can't. I've got to go get ready for my date tonight."

"Your date?"

Only willpower kept my smile in place. "I meant my job."

The Mona Lisa smile was back. "But you said  _date_."

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, I stepped into the fireplace, and flounced off with a terse goodbye. Not exactly a mature response, but it made me feel better temporarily.

 

The September moon that had been full a few days ago was beginning to wane. I hadn't seen the wizard my family now believed was my new boyfriend since the meeting. I'd thought about Remus J. Lupin a lot; especially during the nights I'd sat alone gazing at the Harvest Moon from Morty's rooftop garden. Maybe it was the natural result of growing up with dad singing every full moon: _That's Amore_.

I wasn't having any trouble sleeping at night, though. Not since my mate Lisa, from Blue Moon, taught me the Morpheus Charm. It was easy as chant, wave your wand, and fall into the arms of Morpheus, the god of sleep. Eight hours straight, guaranteed. Almost as good as natural sleep and no dreams. I hoped it wasn't addictive.

Evaluating the contents of my wardrobe, I found the outfit that was perfect for tonight's  _job_  and promptly zipped it into a garment bag. A shower and depilatory spell for smooth legs later—only to ensure the silk stockings wouldn't run—I Flooed to a flat belonging to a female member of the Underground.

I looked around the place and shivered. Chintz…doilies…china figurines…paintings of flowery landscapes and…oh, Merlin…a big-eyed girl holding a sad-eyed dog.  The place gave me the creeps. No one was around, so I bent to peruse a row of books in a small case beside a rocker. They were all by one author: Barbara Cartland. I'd never heard of her, so I picked out an interesting title, _The Little Pretender_ , and opened up a page to read aloud,

_"If you must leave me, most beautiful mademoiselle," he said, "at least allow me to kiss your lips before you go."_ Laughter trembled in my tone when I theatrically placed the back of my hand to my brow.  _"His voice was silky, but there was an undercurrent of lust in it which warned Iona of the danger in which she stood."_

A disapproving voice halted my amusement of the writer's florid prose. "Some people enjoy romance novels."

A woman in her thirties, with black hair braided and coiled at the back of her head, stood frowning in the doorway. Plump and pink-cheeked, she looked like someone who would bake biscuits and be president of a Women's Auxiliary. In her flower-print dress, she matched her home and intimidated me with her domestic goddess aura. I shelved the book and tried to joke, "Oh, I like romance novels fine, especially the ones with an undercurrent of lust."

Her nostrils flared slightly. The Queen was not amused. I stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Tonks. I don't think we were introduced at the meeting."

"I'm Hestia Jones. No, we weren't. I'm surprised that Emmeline picked you for this task when I was willing to volunteer. You look very young."

She looked a right sourpuss. Hestia, goddess of hearth and home; I tried to think of Greek myths that depicted her as a fun loving goddess. There weren't any. My lips quirked as I said, "I know, and yet I'll never see twenty-one again."

"Humph!"

Had Hestia been the goddess of the funeral home? She acted like it. Luckily, I wasn't one of those people who must have everyone love them or suffer a breakdown, so I just smiled politely. My smile widened in relief when Mrs. Vance, looking majestic in an emerald-green gown and what must be her favourite shawl, entered the room behind Ms. Jones.

"Are you ready to hear more details about your assignment?" Mrs. Vance asked.

I nodded. "Would you like to fill me in while I change?"

The Jones woman looked taken aback, and relieved that I hadn't wanted to expose my frilly bits to her. Mrs. Vance chuckled. "Hestia’s made a guest room available down the hall."

Décor in the rest of the flat maintained the twee nightmare theme. It was rather dizzying. Cabbage rose wallpaper in the guest room overwhelmed the small space. I took out the dress, stating blandly, "Likes floral patterns, doesn't she?"

Mrs. Vance fingered my silk gown. "Hestia's taste is all in her mouth, but you, my dear, have style. I like this colour, lilac with, what's that on the fabric?"

"A metallic-gold sponge print.” The sheer dress robes were the same shade of gold.

I quickly dressed, admiring the shirred material of the halter and the softly pleated floor length skirt. Drop earrings and metallic gold slides completed the outfit. While I fastened the dress robes, Mrs. Vance handed me a picture of a pureblood couple and asked if I'd ever met them. I nodded. "Terrence and Elspeth Travers. His older brother was sent to Azkaban for accessory to murder. He's in Real Estate. She's the trophy wife."

"Excellent. Our people have detained Mr. and Mrs. Travers and placed sleep and Memory Charms on them. They will wake tomorrow believing they attended the function. You and your partner will impersonate the couple, attend the party in their place, and search for a certain book in the library. Should be simple enough."

If my partner had been anyone else but Remus, the job would be simple, but putting myself in close proximity to that particular man automatically made things complicated. Our hostess sniffed loudly upon seeing my gown when we returned to the lounge. Otherwise, Hestia kept her opinion to herself.

She did ask, "You _do_ know how to dance, don't you?"

I saw a receiver for the Wireless Network sitting on a table. I turned it on and found some rhythm and blues. Proving once again that I lack the ability to behave myself, I did a winding move before down shaking in a way that made Hestia stare in horror and an amused male voice say, "I like it, but that's not what she meant."

Whirling to meet an appreciative gaze, I snapped defensively, "I know, and yeah, I can waltz and stuff. Can't anybody take a joke?"

Looking very distinguished and handsome in impeccably tailored black dress robes, Remus said, "I wish this was a joking matter, but tonight's mission is vital. The Underground needs that information to save lives." He smiled. "Of course, in dark times, I find a sense of humour extremely attractive."

I needed him to Polyjuice into someone less appealing before I was tempted to do something rash, like grab his robes and pull him close to snog his lips off. I asked quickly, “Are you going to use Polyjuice or Polyjuice Maximus?" I needed to know how long we’d have to complete our mission, two hours or four.

"Maximus." His lips curved. I found myself stepping closer, drawn by quiet charm that endangered my willpower. Close inspection revealed care lines on Remus's face that hadn't been there the last time I'd seen him. He looked tired, yet resolute. Tactful as ever, I asked, "Have you been ill?"

Hestia exclaimed shrilly, "What a rude question! The utter cheek! His health is of no concern to you, young woman."

I looked at Remus. My face was hot with the conflicting urges to apologise if I'd offended him, and the longing to slap that witch for talking to me like I was a firstie asking Hagrid how come he was so big. Remus smiled understandingly at me while telling Hestia, "It's quite all right. There's no reason for Tonks not to know that I have a…illness…that taxes my strength from time to time." Before I could compound my bad manners by asking what it was, he said, "I'm much stronger than I appear, and well up to tonight's assignment."

He left the room to transform into Terrence Travers. When he returned, tall, blond and bland, I morphed into a copy of Elspeth, who matched him in colouring and insipid attractiveness. I'd waited because I'm a bit of a show-off, and his fascinated expression made me proud of the ability some had called freakish. I'd met the real couple at several parties with Evan, and I was satisfied no one would know the difference.

Mrs. Vance told us the Floo direction of the party. My face must've lost colour, because Remus/Terrence asked concernedly, "Is anything wrong?"

I didn't want to answer, so I shook my head. We left Hestia's flower-bedecked lounge to step out of a fireplace that tried to compete with Italianate palaces for most marble used. It belonged to the man, who looked up from the couple he was chatting with to smile and hold out his hands. Stiffly, I moved forward and took them. My ex-fiancée kissed my cheek and murmured, "I'm so glad you could come. You look lovely, Elspeth."

My faux-husband slid an arm around my waist, drawing me back to his side. He shook hands with Evan and returned the other man's smile. "Glad to be here. My assistant just drew up the paperwork on a profitable deal, and this is the perfect way to celebrate."

It was uncanny how much Remus sounded like Travers. He was ace at Voice Charms. Our host moved on to greet another couple. My partner and I smilingly accepted the man's invitation to join the gathering in the ballroom. In the outer corridor, masculine fingers brushed long strands away from my ear before bending to whisper, "How do you know Rosier?"

Another couple exited the library. I giggled. "Terry, sweetie, you're so wicked." Pulling him into a small study, I said after closing the door, "Elspeth and Terrence are notorious for getting amorous in odd locations at parties." He didn't back away, remaining uncomfortably close. I confessed, "I ended my engagement to Evan Rosier over a year ago." Pale blue eyes remained steadily on mine. I stared into them and envisioned brown. "As you can imagine, I know this house and how he runs a party. We won't be able to search the library for at least another hour."

"Do you still love him?"

That was none of his business. "No."

Remus smiled. Even with Terrence's face, the wolfish quality came through. I cleared my throat. "Erm . . . we should probably go dance or something."

For a heart stopping moment, I thought that he was reaching for me to do _something_ that involved his mouth and mine. I hoped that my expression hadn't fallen when Remus opened the door and gestured for me to exit first. We made our way into the ballroom.

"Elspeth, darling, I love your gown!"

Pasting a vacuous smile across my tanning-charm bronzed face, I cried, "Prissy, darling, I love your gown too!"

Priscilla Parkinson looked like a sausage about to burst its casing, but insincere gushing was expected. We kissed air instead of cheeks and started to chat. My partner held my hand and kept brushing his thumb across the underside of my wrist. As a distraction to keep me from acting out of character and making a scathing remark, it was brilliant. If only my blood pressure wasn't rising steadily with the stimulation. Eventually, the pug-faced current fiancée of our host shoved off to bore someone else.

Once we reached the dance floor, I proved that when necessary, I could indeed dance appropriately. I pinned a smile to what in real life were most likely collagen-spelled lips and kept my bubble headed expression in place while we circled the floor.

_I'm enjoying this assignment a little too much._

A huff of laughter made me realise I'd said my thought aloud. Obviously, my mind was melting along with my bones and the resolve not to start something with Remus. We'd been dancing on and off for an hour. That's a long, long time to be in close contact with a guy you're fighting an attraction to.

A singer at the far end of the ballroom started to sing  _Blue Moon_. The song was one that Dad used to play on an enchanted Muggle record player. He and my mother would sway along to the soulful lyrics about being alone, without a love of one's own, until that special someone came along. I wondered if this was the chanteuse's subtle dig at pureblood superiority, singing a Muggle jazz standard. Without thought, I imitated Mum and moved closer to rest my head on my partner's shoulder.

With eyes closed, it was easy to pretend that Remus and I were slowly swaying our way toward the sofa in my flat. I wanted to kiss him desperately. Something about the slightly musky scent of his skin drove me crazy. His hands caressed my back. The fabric of my dress robes was so sheer that I could feel the warmth of his palms like they were sliding against bare skin. My fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. He shifted closer. I shivered and instinctively turned my head to the side. Remus's lips trailed up my throat. My fingers clenched in his hair.

He breathed in my ear, "I think we can search the library now."

I stared, uncomprehending, for a few moments, until the words registered. My face heated and my smile turned brittle. "Oh, yeah, sure."

An expression of frustration crossed his currently bland features. I ignored his outstretched hand and began walking toward the far end of the room, taking quick, small steps instead of the long strides I wanted to use. I told myself that I was glad he'd ruined the mood, stopped me from kissing him in front of a ballroom full of interested spectators.

Reaching the corridor, I turned to watch Remus make his way to me. Even looking like Terrence, his lean, elegant grace made me sigh. Not in regret, in relief. My lips twisted in a rueful smile. Maybe if I kept saying that over and over, I'd brainwash myself into believing it.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who thinks Tonks "lacks the ability to" brainwash herself? Heh. If you've never read a Barbara Cartland novel, they're hilarious (unintentionally) with heroines that would be fit brides for Captain James T. Kirk as they all gasp, “I...love...you...too....”  


	4. Kiss the Moon

 

Libraries weren't my favourite places. It was partly because I'm a hands-on learning kind of person, but the rest of the reason was that in my mind, libraries and Evan Rosier were forever linked.

The Slytherin had first kissed me in the Hogwarts library. It was up on the second floor in the goblin poetry section, because no one ever went there. Could anyone blame them? Who wants to read about the beauty of silver and gold? Even though I'm sure that I wasn't the first or last girl who ever used the library to meet a boy in secret, rows of books still reminded me of my poor judgment, and the bad ending to what I'd thought was my first and last true romance.

Remus distracted me from unpleasant memories. Even as Travers, he had a fluid, animal-like economy of movement that drew my attention. I pretended that it didn't, that I was totally engrossed in our mission. After we'd used Sealing Spells to prevent triggering wards or leaving behind anything that could be traced, I said, "Don't bother looking behind paintings. What we need to find are false books. Inside one of them is what we're looking for." I realised that I'd not been told and asked, "What exactly  _are_  we looking for?"

He answered gravely, "A little black book with a list of members of the Underground inside." He said, "One of our people went missing a few weeks ago. His wife recently informed us that he had a bad memory and wrote several contacts down in his address book. He used code, but codes can eventually be broken."

That was not good. I nodded and took out my wand, carefully waving it over a section of books. My partner began to scan shelves on the opposite side of the room. Whenever a hollowed book was passed, the Detection Spell we'd employed made the wand tip glow. I'd found several texts on the Dark arts, but nothing else, until my wand passed over a large tome on a shelf on the back wall. Excitedly, I took it down and opened the cover. Inside was a solid black book. I flipped the pages open.

"That's pretty compromising, but it's not what we're seeking."

I needed to find a charm to prevent blushing. Was it my fault that someone had hidden their Wizarding version of the  _Kama Sutra_  inside another text? If Remus had been searching properly instead of peering over my shoulder, he wouldn't have caught me looking at a naughty drawing. Thank the stars it only demonstrated a kissing technique. I tried to shelve the blasted thing and fumbled, dropping the book onto the floor, where the inner text promptly plopped out and opened to another eye-opening page.

"Allow me."

Remus reassembled the tome and placed it back on the shelf. He had that gleam in his eye again. I took a step back and bumped into a bookshelf. A small, thin book was jolted onto the floor. Our wand tips glowed. We smiled at each other. Inside the false book was another, surprisingly tiny black book: the one we had been looking for. Replacing the false tome, Remus slipped the book into his pocket while we moved toward the fireplace.

Halfway across the room, his fingers curled around my arm while he tilted his head as though listening to something. He whispered, "Someone's coming."

Kingsley Shacklebolt had called my methods “unorthodox.”  Merlin only knew what he'd consider what I did next. I pushed Remus down upon the nearby leather sofa, ripping off my flimsy dress robes while pushing up my skirt to straddle his lap. Leaning close, I breathed, "We're not searching the library. We're a couple having a snog."

When voices neared the library door, I kissed him, using my fingers' grip in currently blond hair to anchor his mouth to mine.

He responded passionately.

I rationalised that French kissing was merely done to make the act believable. His hands glided over my bare back. Dimly, I heard the sounds of people entering. Amused laughter rang out.

"Damned if those rumours about the 'randy Traverses' weren't spot on, Rosier."

"Don't know if I approve of marrieds acting like lovers, Evan."

The first voice belonged to Vincent Crabbe Sr., the second to Priscilla Parkinson. Dragging my lips from Remus's, I nuzzled his neck to avoid meeting anyone's eyes, affecting a drunken spate of giggles. "Oopsie. Let's go home, darling. I want to get…comfortable."

"Perhaps you'd better, Terrence, if you're going to fondle your wife in public. Purebloods should have a bit more control, old man."

The contemptuous amusement of my ex would've had me throwing the nearest blunt object in times past. At this moment, I was torn between wanting him to leave so I could get up and run for the fireplace, and being recklessly content to continue the bizarre conversation and stay right where I was. My eyes focused on temporary blue that could never compare to soulful brown. His gaze darkened while his lips lowered.

"Good gods, they're insatiable. I'm off to tell the wife about this!"

"Evan, stop watching them and let's go get some champagne. I'm thirsty!"

Prissy's whine compelled Evan to say, "Yes, let's." He raised his voice, "Travers, it's obvious that you'll have a good evening, so I'll simply bid you farewell."

Gaze capturing mine, Remus replied huskily, "Farewell."

When the door clicked shut, I pushed against Remus's shoulders, needing to put some distance between us. His hand slid underneath my hair to cup my nape and gently but inexorably bring me closer. "Rosier's coming back." This time  _he_  was the one to kiss me to make the show believable while I responded ardently.

The door opened with only the faintest of creaks. After watching us silently for several moments, Evan, or whoever it had been at the door, retreated just as quietly.

We kept kissing. My partner made a growling noise in his throat that startled me into pulling away. This time, Remus allowed me to go. I snatched up my dress robes and fastened them while rushing over to the fireplace. Almost frantically, I shook out my skirts and futilely tried to smooth down my hair. Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, I stepped into the fireplace. Before leaving, I saw Remus lift his hand. When he closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply, I choked out, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"The scent of your skin lingers on mine."

I don't think I've ever thrown Floo powder faster in my life. On the other end, I stumbled out onto the hearth and past the domestic goddess, still gowned as though ready to preside over a garden party at a moment's notice. Inside the guest bedroom, I returned my features to normal, but gave myself wine red hair and chocolate brown eyes. After that, I did a strip and change with swiftness that Muggle firefighters would envy. Shoving my dress and heels back into the garment bag, I headed for the front door.

Remus called my name. Thank the stars above that he still looked like Travers. I rushed into speech. "Hey, I've got someplace to go, another job, so you do the debriefing, OK?"

"Stay." Even blond and bland, Remus J. Lupin was too dangerous for my peace of mind. I shook my head.

Behind him, Hestia said, "Let her go, Remus, she's fulfilled her purpose. We don't need her anymore. Have a cup of tea with Emmeline and me." In a soft, inviting voice, she coaxed, "I baked your favourite biscuits just this afternoon."

I practically reeled out of the door and into corridor beyond. No wonder Ms. Prim and Proper didn't approve of me. She had her eye on Remus! The adoring way she looked at him, and the possessive way she touched his arm was sickening.

The witch obviously didn't want a younger woman giving her competition. Hah. Biscuit-queen was no competition for me. The sugar Remus wanted didn't come in granulated form. I tried to imagine Hestia draped over Remus, tongue-locked. The vision that sprang to mind made me so furious that I did something I'd only done once before. I threw a tantrum.

My tantrum wasn’t the typical childish kicking and screaming fit. The summer my Gran had dedicated to making sure I experienced non-magical teen life, I read a Muggle novel that had a deep impact.  _Ogre, Ogre_  by Piers Anthony was set in a land called Xanth, where magical creatures abounded. The story was a humorous adventure, with romance and a plethora of puns thrown in. I read the book three times.

The heroine, Tandy's, magical talent was throwing “tantrums”. When the girl experienced extreme emotions, her face would turn red, fists and eyes clenching shut, body stiffening until she could hurl psychic force, a tantrum, to devastating effect.

I used to think that was so freaking cool. One night, when my boyfriend wouldn't stop trying to coax me into the back seat of his car, I unconsciously imitated the fictional girl. Rory thought the exploding windshield was the result of a drive-by shooting. I knew that it was wild magic.

The force I unleashed now hit the wall by the door of the flat, melting the Welcome Friends plaque that had been hanging, a wreath of pastel flowers and butterflies. Goo dripped down the scorched wall. I took out my wand to vanish the mess. Other than a missing plaque and a large brown splotch on the magnolia paint that I considered an improvement, all traces of my tantrum had vanished. Regressing to teenaged defiance, I gave the woman's door a backward V, not for victory.

Outside on the sidewalk, I looked up at the dark sky. Just that afternoon, Morty's receptionist, Bubbles, had looked up from polishing her nails with a charm when I’d returned from the Ministry. Apropos of nothing, she'd commented that wasn't it interesting how full moons made people realise that they needed to live their lives fully. I'd placated the ditzy blonde with a nod, but now . . . .

A glance upwards showed the moon that, when viewed a few nights ago from a comfortable lounger, had evoked such a deep longing. My gaze travelled to a certain window. A dark silhouette stood watching me. Tearing my gaze away, a beer can littering the ground caught my eye. Instead of being a good citizen and picking it up for deposit in the proper receptacle, I kicked it.

 

After Apparating back to the Blue Moon, I paused in the doorway of the boss' office. "Don't you ever sleep?"

Without glancing up from the numerous billing statements he was preparing to send clients, my uncle smirked. "Look who's talking, Morpheus girl."

Lisa was going to get a hex. I didn't know which one just yet, but it would cause maximum embarrassment.

Morty lifted his head and saw my expression. "Hey, don't blame her, we were just talking and it kind of came up."

The brazen Orion Mortimer Black looked surprisingly edgy, so I asked, "You were talking where? In your office? Or on a date?"

Straightening to appear more dignified or something, my rascally uncle said, "It was a business dinner, and I'll thank you to keep that private, young lady."

I nodded solemnly before sniggering as I headed for the stairs.

His voice followed me. "Don't forget about the job tonight."

I called back, "Slag duty. How could I forget?"

Morty had an infectious laugh. That was the only reason I was smiling. I'd been on three decoy missions since the night I'd picked up Remus by mistake, but this was the first time I would return to The Black Wolf.

I opened the door of my flat, narrowly avoiding tripping over a pile of  _Daily Prophet_  newspapers. I stomped into the bedroom only big enough to hold a double bed and a small chest of drawers. With a snap, I opened the wardrobe that was thankfully built into the wall and retrieved a little red dress. The spouse was purported to have a preference for a lady in red. A shower and a morph of features into long black hair and thin, elegant bone structure, made me ready to test a man's fidelity.

Strolling into The Black Wolf, I scanned the room and zeroed in on the subject of my matrimonial enquiry. He was a bespectacled man in his forties. I sat on the bar stool beside the potential cheat and threw him a smile. His face lit up. Not allowing the contempt I felt to show, I leaned closer and offered to buy him a drink.

After I'd completed the assignment and sent the clueless lothario back to his wife with my phoney Floo direction written on a cocktail napkin in his pocket, I moved to a booth in the back of the pub. A wave of my wand conjured the paperwork that Monty would transform into a professional report for the client when I turned it in tomorrow. Transcribing the-agent-said-this-and-then-the-subject-of-the-investigation-said-that was one of those necessary chores that I despised. I was grimacing over the challenge of objectively describing events when I heard a man speak.

"May I buy you a drink?"

My heart started pounding. Imitating my mother's composure, I looked up and said, "Thank you, but I don't accept drinks from strangers."

A small smile curved tempting masculine lips and made brown eyes shine. Remus slid onto the bench across from me. "Nice try, Nymphadora, but I know it's you."

Oh, Merlin, the way he said my awful name made me shiver. I shifted my face back to normal. "How did you know I was here? Did you track my  _scent_?"

Something primitive flared in his eyes before he replied lightly, "No, I dropped by the Blue Moon and had an informative conversation with your Uncle Mortimer."

What had Morty told him? Not wanting to know, I said, "I'm surprised your lady friend let you leave so soon."

Remus looked genuinely surprised. "My—what are you talking about?"

I snapped, "Hestia, Ms. I baked your favourite biscuits and they’re extra soft because I drooled over them thinking about you.”

His bark of laughter made me wish I'd let him buy me a drink so I could toss it in his face.

When I tried to stand and leave, Remus's hand shot out and held mine across the table. "Don't run . . . unless you're trying to unleash my predatory instincts."

Shaking my head vigorously, I sat back down. His grip loosened to a gentle clasp. I could've pulled away. I didn't. His thumb moved to press the underside of my wrist. Remus's smile at feeling the rapid pulse caused me to ask, "Are you and Hestia keeping company?"

"No. I'm interested in someone else."

I stared at the handsome, weary face, the grey-streaked hair, the slightly shabby clothes, and the elegant hand of a gentleman who showed intriguing glimpses of a more primal side. My own instincts demanded that I flee from the danger to my heart as fast as possible. I looked away. Intending on keeping my resolve, on telling him not to come looking for me anymore, I glanced back.

Unable to help myself, I blurted, "Who?"

 


	5. Reaching for the Moon

 

Tying the laces of my trainers, I thought the same thing I did every morning I dragged my indolent arse out of bed.  _I hate exercise_. Going through my routine of warm-up stretches, the litany of supposed benefits Dad had constantly repeated throughout my teenaged years played in my mind like an old record on an enchanted player.

_Running lessens stress, releases endorphins that avert depression, makes your heart healthy, and prevents you from looking like our cousin Big Bertha._

The Big Bertha prevention was my main reason for tagging along with my dad on his morning jogs until Auror training gave me a more pressing one. A burst of speed can help you catch a Dark wizard or save your arse when the bad guys are after you. I'd already proven it several times in simulated encounters during training. If the higher ups would let me do more than answer lonely old jossers' imagined sightings of Sirius Black, or false reports of Dark magic, I'd prove it as Auror.

I laughed when I stepped into the corridor and saw Morty shuffling toward me. "Coffee's on the kitchen counter."

Rumpled, unshaven, and bleary eyed, my uncle mumbled something that sounded like, “Bless you, my child,” and stumbled into the flat. I made my way downstairs. Begrudging my body every ruddy endorphin, I exited the building and began the run. Out of habit, I varied my route. Dark wizards, and even the garden-variety misusers of magic were known to track Aurors down from time to time, and following a pattern made it easy for disgruntled persons to plan a nasty surprise.

I constantly scanned the terrain during my run, on the lookout for things that were different, or out of place. No one's ever tried to attack me for being either an Auror or a woman running alone along mostly deserted streets. I'd like to think if someone did, I'd see them coming, and they'd be the one to get an unpleasant shock. A delivery guy wearing a brown uniform reminded me of Remus. I'd followed my heart instead of my head when I'd asked, “Who?” A rush from something other than endorphins made me pick up the pace while I remembered last night.

_I thought I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it._

_"You. Would you care to go out with me?"_

_His smile was a little uncertain. I felt the same way, stammering, "Go out…like on a date or something?"_

_"Yes. Tomorrow night?"_

_"All right."_

After forty minutes of remembering the way Remus had kissed my hand when we'd parted, and preventing last night's celebratory 500ml of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough from heading straight to my arse or thighs, I went home. Next door to the Blue Moon, my neighbour, Jan Rocher, was arranging a new display in the window of her shop  _Chocolat_. Her husband Alan walked out at the moment I’d slowed to sigh over the display of chocolate temptation.

"Want to go in? Jan told me she saved a few truffles for you."

I met the twinkling gaze of the forty-something antique shop owner who claimed he had the soul of a gypsy.  "You're sleeping with the devil, did you know that?"

Alan chuckled. "Must be why I'm so damned happy."

Waving, he Apparated. In the shop, Jan greeted me with her customary _salut_ and then scolded, "Why do you have to be tempted with chocolate to come visit? I haven't seen you in a week!" Smiling, she said, "I miss your company more than ever since Anouk returned to Hogwarts."

She led the way to the kitchen at the back of the shop. I eyed Jan’s brushed back, short brown hair that always looked enviably chic, wishing I could pull the look off. She waved me to my customary stool at a central marble-topped work table. I picked out a hazelnut truffle from the plate set in front of me and took an ecstatic bite before replying, "I visit, and you know I'd hang round all day if my jobs didn't keep me so busy."

"Jobs. A girl with as much _joie de vivre_ as you should have more than work in her life." Slapping the flat of her hand against the marble, Jan said, "You should have a man."

I thought of Remus and my cheeks warmed. Across the table, the older woman's mouth fell open in shock. "Tonks! You've found someone?"

"Maybe. I only met him a few weeks ago. We haven't even had a first date yet, but . . . maybe . . . ." My goofy smile probably told her more than my words.

Jan grinned. "Maybe doesn't put roses in your cheeks and a sparkle in your eyes. What's his name?"

"Remus."

A peal of melodic laughter filled the cheerful space decorated in accents of blue, white, and yellow. Holding up an apologetic hand, she said, "Pardon, my friend, it's just that you sounded like my daughter sighing over her boyfriend. That's good to hear. I'm so happy for you!"

During schoolgirl days, my sighs over Evan hadn't been dreamy; they'd been full of angst. I'd never known if he was really protecting me from the prejudice of his fellow Slytherin by keeping our relationship secret, or if the aristocratic pureblood was ashamed of a clumsy witch who had a Mudblood father. To this day, I didn't know. Thankfully, I no longer cared.

"When will you see him again?"

I had to stop smiling idiotically. Julia would take one look at me during our enrichment session—an excuse to inflict more training on Aurors who hadn't used what they'd already crammed into their brains—and hound me mercilessly until I spilled all. I wasn't quite ready for that. Jan was happy that I was finally dating again, but she would never pry. Unlike my best mate, who practically slapped her wand against her palm threateningly whenever we had our girl talks. I pressed my lips together, but the corners of my mouth turned up. I gave in and grinned. "Tonight." I glanced at the clock on the wall. "Ack, the time, got to run!"

Following me back through the shop, Jan teased, "I thought you just finished that!"

Two customers were waiting impatiently for my friend to open the shop. Jan paused behind the counter to fill a takeaway cup with steaming hot chocolate and deftly snapped the lid on before handing it over with a small paper bag. "Chocolate croissants, my number one seller in the mornings, and a few truffles. Share with Morty, _s'il vous plait_."

I backed out of the door. " _Non_. I'm doing him a favour, making him get out of the office to buy his own. Really, it's good for him!"

One of the little old ladies bundled up in sweaters and scarves nodded her agreement. "All's fair in love and chocolate, dearie."

I laughed. "See, Jan, the customer's always right! _Merci, a bientôt!"_

" _De rien_ , Tonks, _Au revoir_."

Inside the Blue Moon, Lisa was manning the desk for Bubbles, Morty's receptionist, who was always late. Almond eyes in a delicate Asian face were riveted by my bag. She all but drooled. "What'cha got?"

"Take a whiff. Maybe you can smell, because you'll never taste, tattletale."

She laughed, no doubt hoping that I was joking.

"Chocolate croissants and two, no, three truffles. Tiramisu, amaretto, and…raspberry," said an amused male voice.

I whirled around to face Remus, simultaneously elated to see him and wishing that I wasn't wearing a sweaty t-shirt and shorts. Behind me, Lisa gushed, "My, what a good nose you have."

A brief, wolfish smile lit his face. Eyes filled with quiet mischief locked with mine while he stepped closer and said in a low voice, "The better to smell you with, my dear."

He inhaled. My pulse pounded like I'd just hit target heart rate. Trying to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere, I kidded, "Did your mum teach you fairy tales along with Latin and an appreciation of irony?"

A shadow darkened his gaze. "Yes."

Not caring to chat any further in front of Lisa the gossip, I held out the cup and offered, "Here, I'd rather have coffee. Want to come up and talk?"

Nodding, he lifted the cup and smiled. "Hot chocolate. My favourite."

After relenting enough to place a raspberry truffle on Lisa's outstretched palm, I led Remus down the corridor. I'd climbed the stairway to the second floor too many times to count, and none of them memorable experiences until this man followed me up the steps. Using willpower dragged out of some dusty corner of my psyche, I refrained from turning and snogging him on the stairs. I unwarded my flat by drawing the correct runes on the wood with my fingertips. I opened the door, promptly shut it again, and leaned back against the carved oak surface to warn, "I'm no domestic goddess, so enter at your own risk, OK?"

A huff of amusement sounded. "OK."

It's strange how content with my space I'd been until he entered. Now, I wondered if the red sofa was too loud, and if the multicoloured floor rug, gothic wall sconces, and stacks of newspapers and post I meant to sort one day looked overly eccentric. Trying not to let my awkwardness about having a man invade my sanctuary show, I headed for the small kitchen. I waved him toward one of the two seats at the bistro table. While filling a mug with the last cup in the enchanted coffee pot, I tried to sniff my underarm covertly after a horrifying thought occurred. What if my elfin, ever-lasting deodorant had exhausted its magical properties?

"You smell fine. Better than fine, actually."

Scrunching my eyes closed, I grimaced at being caught acting like a teenager before turning around. "That's good to know."

Our knees touched under the table. My skin tingled, but I acted as though I didn't notice while setting out the chocolate croissants and truffles. Accepting a croissant, but smilingly refusing a sweet, he said, "It will be hard enough to concentrate on work without a sugar high impeding my concentration further."

Curiosity won out over good manners. "What kind of work do you do?"

Remus's eyes were pensive. "Up until several months ago, I taught." His tone became determinedly light. "Over the years I've had an eclectic assortment of positions. I've been a teacher, bookseller, translator, and researcher. Currently, I authenticate and translate Latin texts, mostly for clients who hope they've found a rare edition." Noticing my attempt to suppress laughter, he grinned. "Rather dull, compared to being an Auror?"

"No…it's just that…the first night I met you, I didn't know your name, so I thought of you as 'the professor'." Face hot, I admitted, "After we'd talked for a while, I thought that if you'd been my teacher, I would've mooned over you so bad." His eyes widened slightly over my words before becoming smoky. I licked my suddenly dry lips. His eyes focused on my mouth. Hurriedly, I asked, "What kind of Latin texts?"

"Recently, I've been working on a text that the client hopes is the ninth book in Valerius Flaccus' epic poem  _Argonatica_."

"You don't think that it is?"

His hair slid forward when he shook his head. I wanted to smooth it back. Instead, I listened, as he explained, "No. The epic concerning Jason and the Golden Fleece breaks off abruptly in the eighth book, and no proof has been found that any other exists."

"Too bad."

"That's what I'll have to tell my client."

We exchanged smiles. Finishing the last of my croissant, I said, "Remus?"

"Yes?"

"Did you…er…drop by just to see me, or…" I attempted to sound casual, while gripped with apprehension. "Did something come up? Are you breaking our date?"

Remus must have read the anxiety in my face, because he reached across and held my hand. "I would never break our date, but something has come up. The Underground will be meeting tonight, same time and place." Grinning boyishly, he confessed, "I volunteered to give you the news, because I didn't want to wait until later to see you."

"Thanks." I really had a way with words sometimes. Relief threaded my voice. "Did you want to go out afterwards? I could wear a dress underneath my robes; if we're going someplace I should wear a dress to."

Remus caught my indirect question and nodded while rising to his feet. "We're going to a jazz club."

I stood and walked him to the door, telling him in a voice that sounded absurdly shy, "I'm looking forward to it."

In the outer corridor, we stood looking at each other, like couples do when they don't want to say goodbye. I asked impulsively, "Could you say something in Latin?"

His slow smile made the butterflies that had taken residence in my stomach from the moment I saw him flutter about madly. Stepping close, he cupped my cheek with a warm, gentle hand and bent to whisper against my mouth, " _Pace tua,_ with your consent."

I parted my lips in answer. Remus's mouth moved over mine in a kiss that was so sweet, I almost cried. No man had ever kissed me with such tenderness before, and the feelings it invoked were overwhelming. I backed away, murmured, “Bye,” and almost fell into the flat in haste to put some space between us.

 

The rest of the day, I attempted to put the upcoming date out of my head, focusing only on getting the most out of the retraining thinly disguised as enrichment. Julia and I practised administering Veritaserum on a fellow Auror playing the part of a captured Dark wizard. When the time came for me to take a turn as the prisoner, my pal winked at Tom Fenton, her fellow questioner and boyfriend before saying, "State your name."

"Tonks."

"Full name."

Glaring at the two blondes that thought they were so amusing, I gritted, "Nymphadora Tonks."

My interrogators took turns asking questions, basic at first, and then intrusive. My role was to try and circumvent giving the truthful answer that the serum compelled me to give. Theirs was to learn to phrase questions in a way that excluded prevarication. After the session was over, and the Recordbrall deactivated for later evaluation, Julia slipped in a final question. "Are you seeing someone and hiding that fact from your best mate?"

I tried not to answer until my face turned red and my stomach cramped unbearably. I gasped out, "Yes."

"I knew it! I knew you were pining for some guy, you liar! What's his name?"

"Remus."

My friend exchanged a laughing glance with her partner.

I scowled.

Julia grinned. "What's this Remus fellow look like?"

"A man."

Tom laughed and was promptly punched in the arm. He chuckled. "Would Jul here think he was hot?"

"No."

After giving her boyfriend another love tap, Julia smiled wickedly. "Do you think he's hot?"

"Oh yeah."

"Have you kissed him yet?"

The potion had worn off. "None of your business."

I refused to answer any more questions, regardless of how Jul threatened or pleaded. She pouted for the rest of the day. I smirked. Before Apparating home, I took pity on puppy dog eyes and admitted, "Yes, and it was fan-bloody-tastic."

Thinking about how extraordinary Remus and his kisses were kept doubts about my romantic judgment at bay while I shared Chinese takeout with Morty. Later, I hummed off-key while searching through my closet. I looked for a dress that would encourage more displays of affection. One daring outfit caught my eye. Taking out the short raspberry coloured, silk charmeuse ribbon dress, I fingered one of the many thin silky ribbons that tied on the side. After slipping on the nude-coloured silk under slip, and the overdress with ribbon shoulder straps, any qualms about the sexiness of the dress faded when I stepped into matching slides and fastened on a bracelet of quartz teardrops.

A little makeup, an extra brushing/flossing mint, and I was ready to go and looking fine. It was a shame to cover the dress with black robes, but I wasn't trying to impress anyone other than my date. I Apparated to the warehouse district, walked to the meeting place and was quickly ushered inside.

The same diverse group of wizards and witches were milling around chatting. I waved to Kingsley and Emmeline. One man intently watched my progress as he listened politely to the fair-haired wizard I'd stood behind at the last meeting. I crossed to Remus's side and said, "Hi."

There are times when I can breeze through any social or professional situation with a bright patter of conversation. This wasn't one of them. Remus smiled. "Hello. Tonks, this is Sturgis Podmore."

The wizard looked to be in his late thirties. "Hullo, Tonks, is it? Should be easy enough to remember. My memory is almost as bad as old…" Breaking off, he frowned. "Sorry, shouldn't speak ill of the dead, should I?"

Before I could decide whether the question had been rhetorical or not, the saccharine-sweet voice of a domestic goddess scolded, "Sturgis, how could you be so insensitive. You know how many friends poor Remus has lost!"

The man blanched. "Ahem, sorry, Lupin."

"No apology is necessary."

While I listened to the men exchange words, Hestia Jones sidled up to Remus and placed her hand on his arm. The sight of that plump, perfectly manicured hand caressing his sleeve made me try an experiment with wandless magic. Eyes narrowed and fixed on the woman's hand, I concentrated, body stiffening with effort.

She exclaimed, "Ouch! Something just bit me! Do you see a spider or a bee anywhere?"

The mark did look rather like the result of an Aranea Hex. I wondered whether it would swell. I hoped so. Glancing smugly from the witch rubbing her hand to the wizard considering me with an arrested look on his face, I hastily assumed an expression of innocence. His rumble of amusement made me grin when Remus edged so close to me that our arms brushed and whispered, "Miss Spider, I presume?"

Emmeline cleared her throat to get everyone's attention, saving me from an embarrassing confession. It was bad enough that I'd acted out of dislike. Did I have to admit it, too? The warehouse was huge and rather chilly. Leaning against Remus's side kept me toasty warm. He also smelled really, really, good.

"Thank you, the admiration is mutual."

Chagrin over unwary speech couldn't prevent the glow I felt, hearing that our feelings were mutual. Mrs. Vance was assuring the assembly that the stolen information had been regained, and that investigation proved that the code had not been broken. Sighs of relief echoed in the cavernous space. Several approving glances were thrown our way. Hestia's was not one of them.

After several more items on the agenda were discussed and resolutions were made, the meeting was adjourned. Cami joined us and offered to fetch me coffee since she was headed to the coffeepot herself. I declined with a smile. My laughter over her pretended shock stilled when I heard, "Would you care for a cup of tea? Oh, dear, how terribly clumsy of me!"

The expression on Hestia's face was anything but sorry while she dumped her mug of tea on my robes. Luckily, only the hem was drenched. Cami said, after a scathing look at Hestia, "Good thing the chill in this room cooled that tea or you'd be scalded for sure. Let me take those robes and I'll do a cleaning charm quick as a—oh wow!"

I was thinking something else.  _Oh shite!_  The dress, in all its beribboned glory, was unveiled, and I could tell that Hestia thought it scandalous. My friend complimented the raspberry colour as gorgeous, but Hestia sniffed disapprovingly.

"That's hardly appropriate attire, unless…you have a date after the meeting?" The woman's tone had changed from sour to sweet. Seeing Remus slip his arm around my waist wiped the smile off Hestia's face.

She looked as though her biscuits had burnt when he smiled at me and said, "Yes, she does. With me."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist adding a little Chocolat inspired sweetness to the story. It's a great film, and if you haven't seen it, you should!


	6. By the Light of the Moon

 

The jazz club in Chelsea was one of those exclusive places that didn't advertise. Everyone who knew jazz found their way inside. Those who didn't went somewhere else with the management's blessing. Three numbers set in a brick half circle over the door to an unassuming stone building were the only outward sign of the establishment within.

Remus and I had Apparated to Diagon Alley and taken a Squire Cab to the club since I'd never been there before. My mind was still whirling from the events that had taken place when the Underground's meeting had ended. Hestia dousing me with tea and Cami ripping off my robes to expose the flirty dress beneath were the impetus, but not the reason I'd swung from elation to frustration and back again.

The euphoria was caused by Remus informing her that he was my date. It might not have been nice to enjoy the look of jealousy on Ms. Sour Grapes' face, but it was deeply satisfying. Maybe now she'd keep her pink talons to herself, and I wouldn't be tempted to rip a few off.

The frustration was the result of masculine fingers slipping beneath the raspberry coloured ribbons to caress my skin through the under slip. Not being able to do more than smile politely in response to various members' compliments on my dress while those fingertips raised my blood pressure had made me tetchy. Finally, I cut off Sturgis Podmore's rambling tale of a gown he'd seen made of scarves…or perhaps handkerchiefs…and said goodbye while heading for the exit.

The moment my wolfishly grinning date had stepped outside, I'd turned and pressed him back against the door, planting a kiss on his mouth that made me giggle at his dazed expression.

_"I hope you don't mind public displays of affection," I said._

_"No," Remus replied in a thoughtful tone. "I don't."_

_"You sound surprised."_

_"I am. I've never been so bold with a woman before."_

_A grin stretched my cheeks. "Good. That makes us even. I've never acted this way before either."_

As we entered the club, Remus chuckled at the look on my face. "If you're thinking what I'm thinking about, feel free to do that again any time you like."

I gave him a heated look that had his eyes widening, until he noticed I was trying not to laugh. His bark of amusement set me off. Heads turned. My laughter isn't very ladylike. After Remus led me to a small, round table and went to grab a couple of drinks at the bar, I looked around, liking what I saw. The stage was well placed. Almost everyone listening would have an excellent view of the performers. Across the walls washed in pale yellow, an artist had drawn portraits of jazz greats. I didn't recognise many of the immortalised artists, but I admired the artwork.

"I realised that I never asked if you like jazz," Remus said after returning with our wine.

Accepting a glass, I waited for him to take the seat beside me and admitted, "I'm eclectic when it comes to music, which means that I like and know a little about a lot of styles, but I'm no authority on any in particular." I smiled. "Gran, my dad’s mum, listens to Armstrong, Ellington, Basie, and ladies like Billie Holliday and Ella Fitzgerald. I like them a lot." I took a sip of white wine.  "What about you? How'd you end up liking jazz?"

Remus' black jersey and trousers made his brown eyes look dark and mysterious; I leaned closer to hear him say, "My father. I grew up listening to Be-Bop and Hard-Bop . . . and . . . you look as though flobberworms are crawling out my ears."

I don't usually like to admit that I don't know something. In school, if a professor was teaching something new that I didn't get right off, I'd wait, go to the library, and find a book to teach myself. Since my date hadn't made me feel like an ignoramus when I'd admitted that my Latin was sketchy, I took a chance and said, "No, I just thought bopping was dancing. What's it mean in jazz?"

His mouth curved temptingly. He took my hand and slowly traced a line back and forth from the tip of my index finger down to my wrist to convey mainstream jazz. Explaining that Be-Bop was typically fast lines, Remus drew circles on my palm. I waited breathlessly to see how he would get across the hard driving, swinging approach of Hard-Bop. An emcee stepped onto the stage. Everything girly in me that had been going _oh yeah_ now went oh not yet. The lights dimmed. I caught a flash of white teeth when Remus noticed the pout I couldn't suppress. A quintet set up and began to play.

His breath made me shiver when he whispered in my ear, "I'll show you later."

The band played standards from the 20's, 30's, and 40's. I employed the surveillance techniques learned in Auror training and covertly watched Remus more than the musicians on stage. The almost imperceptible way he moved in time to the beat, and the faint smile on his lips and in his eyes made me enjoy the music in a way I wouldn't have otherwise. Was that shallow? I didn't care. His eyes captured mine. The band took a break between sets. Recorded music began to play. Remus took my hand and led me to the small dance floor at the other end of the club. Swaying with him, resting my head on Remus' shoulder, I giggled over the words to the song.

I could hear the smile in his voice. "What's so amusing?"

Softly, I spoke the title along with the singer, "What a difference a day makes."

Clever fingers slid beneath the silky ribbons and stroked my waist and back. Referring to the lyrics, he asked, "Was it a thrilling kiss?

The slight uncertainty in his voice overrode my usual caution. Tired of letting my head rule my heart, I nodded. "A moment of bliss." When he smiled, almost shyly pleased, I said, "I want another one."

He'd told me to feel free to kiss him anytime I liked. Taking him at his word, I rose on tiptoes to press a kiss against the mouth opening in surprise. Not wanting to embarrass him with an extended public display of affection, I tried to step back. His arms tightened, his lips moving, parting and seducing.

"Nymphadora Tonks, what would your grandmother say?"

Some voices were unforgettable. Rory Farrell's was one of them. When Remus's mouth left mine, I saw that Rory was still an Irish rogue, albeit a better dressed one, in an expensive-looking black suit. I decided to pretend we'd parted on amicable terms. After all, compared to my break up with Evan, we had.

"Gran would say that it was about time." I tried to sound casual. "Remus, this is Rory, a…old friend from the neighbourhood."

The lilt in the Irishman's voice had charmed more people than I could count. Remus didn't return the younger man's hearty “pleased to meet you” with more than civility. Rory's girlfriend, a statuesque blonde named Audrey, looked bored and restless when he offered to buy a round. I started to decline, but Remus accepted. Following our dates to a larger table, Audrey and I exchanged glances that women have likely given each other since time began. They were filled with exasperation and said without words, “Men!”

Sitting between Rory and Remus was not the most felicitous of circumstances. That's one of Mum's sayings that in this case, meant I felt awkward as hell. Rory was laying on the Irish charm, regaling Audrey and Remus with tales of our youth. Within minutes, “Lupin, boyo” got a thumbnail sketch of my summer learning about Muggles and would probably never want to kiss the mouth Blarney-master Farrell had touched ever again. My lips pursed.

Rory laughed. "I remember that look, Nym, luv. Last time I saw it, my windshield exploded."

"Really?"

Oh, now Remus decided to speak. I sent my old _friend_ a look that said “spill and die.” His trademark smile gleamed. "That's not what I wanted to talk about, actually."

Remus looked steadily at the other man. "Then say what you brought us over here to say."

All right, maybe I had thought Rory might be carrying the teensiest torch for me. Perhaps I'd also imagined that Remus was the tiniest bit jealous of my old boyfriend, and they'd been doing some male rivalry thing. Hearing that the guys actually had an agenda—other than me—deflated my ego quite nicely. If I hadn't bitten it, my bottom lip would've poked out and turned down while Rory leaned toward me.

He said quietly, "I have . . . sources, you might say, in the old neighbourhood. These sources reported that a stranger has been asking questions about a nice old lady and her granddaughter. When questioned, the bloke disappeared." Leaning back, Rory shrugged, dark eyes smiling. "When I saw you tonight, I thought you'd like to know."

I didn't know what to say, so I just said, "Thank you."

Winking at me, he promised, "If one of my boys catches the bloke nosing round again, he'll have a little talk, find out who's put the eye on you." Rory asked Audrey, "Ready to go, darlin'?" She jumped up eagerly. He stood. The blonde glued herself to his side. Nodding to Remus, and telling me, "A pleasure seeing you, Nym," Rory strolled out like he owned the place. Maybe he did. It was a Muggle club, and his Uncle Colin loved jazz.

I began to trace the rim of my glass with a fingertip, unsure how to react to the news that some unknown person was asking questions about me and my Gran. The Auror in me suggested that some Dark wizard had tracked me down. The sceptical part of my brain, sounding eerily like my mother, scoffed at such specious reasoning. I hadn't arrested a Dark wizard yet, and surely my home would be a more practical target.

Warm fingers stopped my nervous action. I stared at Remus's hand covering mine. It was elegant and pale, with the long fingers of an artist. Slight calluses and almost invisible scars made me wonder what else that hand had done besides teach and translate Latin texts. Hard manual labour? Wizard employers who would hire a werewolf were the exception rather than the rule.

Remus had more patience than I did, waiting quietly for me to raise my eyes. I broke the silence by asking, "Do you think the person asking about Gran is connected to my work with the Underground?"

His fingers clasped and gently squeezed mine. "I don't know." A corner of his mouth quirked upward. "What's got you so upset, hearing about the watcher or learning about him from your old friend?"

Wishing that the lighting wasn't so dim that it was hard to read his face, I retorted, "What do you think?"

"I don't know. How did the windshield explode?"

I pulled my hand away to cross my arms across my chest in a defensive posture. "Rory wouldn't believe that I wasn't panting to have it off in the backseat of his car. I got mad and threw a tantrum. Some kind of wild magic. It exploded the window."

An arrested look stole across Remus’s face. Leaning toward me, he asked, "Have you thrown one of those tantrums recently?"

Involuntarily, my eyes shifted to the left. "What are you talking about?"

It was evident by his suppressed smile that Remus knew the instinctive eye movement meant I was trying to deceive. He said, "Hestia's welcome plaque somehow melted. She told me before the meeting that only a scorched mark and a few traces of pink paint were left."

"There were no traces of paint."

His smile made me realise my slip. Rattled, I reached for my glass and accidentally knocked the drink over. It was the final straw. Pushing to my feet, I darted for the exit. Outside, I Disapparated before Remus could do more than call my name. Instead of Apparating at the front of the Blue Moon, I chose the back alley, where I pulled down the fire escape. Climbing up the ladder as though a wolf was nipping at my heels, I cursed when one of my slides slipped on a rung and tumbled to the ground. I took off the remaining shoe and threw it onto the rooftop. Once I clambered over the ledge, I pulled up the ladder.

City lights competed with the stars for radiance. Unaccountably, the waning of the moon made me sad. I felt stupid for running off, for not talking things out. Why did I always act first and think later? Standing in the middle of Morty's beloved rooftop garden, the stars began to blur.

"I believe this is yours."

I looked disbelievingly from the shoe to the man holding it. Remus had climbed up the fire escape. "How?"

His smile was crooked. "Instinct."

I laughed shakily. "I could use some of that. My instincts are rotten, at least when it comes to relationship stuff. Maybe you could tell."

When his arms encircled me, I melted into his embrace. Remus soothingly caressed my back and confessed, "I'm not used to feeling jealous. Intellectually, I knew that you had no interest in Farrell, but emotionally, ah, there I reacted badly and pushed you into leaving. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I thought you didn't care if Rory had been more than a friend. I thought you were making fun of me for being jealous of Hestia baking you those bloody biscuits and touching you." In his arms, I didn't mind admitting, "I did melt her sign with a tantrum." He chuckled. I said ruefully, "I would've left it dripping down the wall if I hadn't been afraid that everyone would find out what I did and realise why I did it."

Lips that were firm and soft at the same time covered mine. I responded with everything that I had, wishing that I could freeze that moment, feel his body pressing against mine, taste his mouth forever. When his lips trailed across my cheek to my ear, I whispered, "I don't want to be with any man but you, Remus."

I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, "I don't want to be with any other woman." Leading me over to a padded double lounger, he said, "I hope I'm not presumptive for asking, but will you stay in my arms until the stars fade?"

I nodded. Lying beside Remus, feeling cherished and safe within the circle of his arms, I rested my cheek against his chest and confided drowsily, "I've never done this before."

Sleepy amusement laced his pleasant voice. "What, slept out on the roof?"

"No, slept in a man's arms."

The fingers that had been lazily trailing up my arm stilled. "You were engaged."

In the darkness, I could barely distinguish the outline of Remus’s face. Somehow, that made it easier to share, "He said it was to protect my reputation. We would go out a couple of times a week, but I always Flooed home afterwards. It used to bother me, sometimes, but now . . . ."

"Yes?"

I whispered, "I'm glad that it's with you."

He brushed a kiss across my hair. "I'm happy too. Happier than I've been in a long, long time."

It was natural to be curious, and I wondered for a moment what people and events in this man's life had caused the sadness that shadowed his eyes from time to time. I didn't ask any questions. Right now, he was happy to be with me, and that was all that mattered. I smiled contentedly. "Good night, Remus."

In the morning, I was awakened by a gruff voice exclaiming, "Somebody's been sleeping on my lounger, and they're still here!"

The corresponding giggle made my eyes snap open. My uncle and his favourite employee gazed down at us, each with a mug of divine smelling coffee in their hand. I growled, "Give." Lisa handed over her mug, giggling again when I sat up and drank half the mug in one long gulp. Considerately allowing her to finish the coffee, I asked, "Are you here early, or did you never leave?"

Proving that Asian inscrutability was just another stereotype, a blush stole over my friend's face. Almond eyes flickered briefly to my uncle before meeting mine. "Morty asked me to come in early for a, uh, business breakfast, to, um, discuss a case." She tucked a strand of shoulder-length dark hair behind an ear; her expression dared me to comment.

Before I could begin to tease, Remus said huskily, "Good morning."

I tried not to let my expression show that his tone put a shiver down my spine, but from Lisa's knowing smile and Morty's smirk, I wasn't successful. Deciding that I didn't care, I looked over at the wrought iron table and chairs and queried, "What's for breakfast?"

My rascally uncle said, "Whatever you make or go get. That breakfast is for two." When I stuck out my tongue, he smiled evilly. "Really, it's good for you to get out and go buy your own."

He'd obviously been next door to  _Chocolat_. Jan, susceptible to his dubious charm, had repeated what I'd said about him. How unfair. Sulking a bit, I told Remus, "Come on, let's go next door and get some fresh and warm croissants and leave them to their  _business breakfast_."

With a chuckle, he stood in a fluid motion that I admired on many levels and pulled me to my feet. Passing the other couple, I crossed my eyes. Lisa laughed and brought two small items out of her trouser pocket. I grabbed them and handed one of the brushing/flossing mints to Remus before popping the other into my mouth. Loftily, I said, “ _Merci,_ ” and swept down the stairs, chewing away.

Once we were alone in the lower corridor, Remus smiled regretfully. "I've got to meet a client in an hour, or I'd gladly have breakfast with you."

A wicked smirk was his only warning before I pounced, pressing him against the wall. My lips a breath away from his, I murmured, "How about giving me something fresh and warm before you leave?"

I'd never kissed a smiling mouth before Remus's. It made me smile too as his lips parted for mine. The feeling of starting over fresh was exhilarating. Happily, I gave myself over to the kiss that warmed my blood and my heart.

 


	7. Blinded by the Moon

 

In the past, the thought of dragging myself outside to go running made me grumble and morph horrible faces in front of the mirror. Today I bounded out of bed, actually made it, and got dressed in a pale blue and black running outfit that Julia had pronounced made me look fit. Making my way downstairs with a water bottle that transfigured into a wristband, I hummed Billie Holliday's  _He's Funny That Way._  Like Billie sang, I sure hoped that I had Remus “crazy for me” since I felt that way about him. We'd been officially dating for almost a week, and he'd come over every morning to go running and have breakfast with me. That made all the difference in my attitude.

Outside the Blue Moon, I started to stretch.

"Good Morning."

I straightened and turned to kiss Remus hello. His eyes flickered over my long bra top and split leg shorts. I thought he looked mighty fine himself in a grey sleeveless tee and tracksuit trousers. His cute little smile incited me to hug him.

"You're energetic this morning," he said after we discussed a route and began to jog.

I looked over at him and smirked. "Must be the company, because I've never been a cheery early bird before." I didn't say it, because regardless of what my mother said, I did have some semblance of tact, but I thought Remus seemed to have more energy too. It was funny, but as the moon waned, he seemed to wax, to become healthier, less tired, even look younger. I allowed myself to think it was because I'd impacted his life like he had mine.

"Tonks!"

I'd been darting a glance at Remus instead of watching the pavement. The toe of my trainer snagged on a deep crack in the cement. I lost my footing and fell headlong, automatically throwing out my hands to break the fall. Rolling to the side, I held up my stinging palms to see what damage I'd done this time. Remus knelt down beside me, visually assessing the knee that had hit the ground.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

“Yeah.” Silently, I chanted a simple healing spell. I used several on a regular basis, being accident-prone. Once my hands no longer had that raw look to them and my knee wasn't aching, I glanced at Remus. I knew I was red-faced with chagrin. "I wish Mum would've given me a middle name. Grace, maybe."

His smile made me feel better, and the rest of the run passed without incident. Approaching the Blue Moon, I impulsively stopped in front of  _Chocolat._ "Why don't we grab a croissant?" I'd been trying to impress Remus with my healthy muesli and fruit breakfasts, but my real dietary preference won out that morning. That adorable little smile curved his mouth again while he agreed and held the door open.

" _Bienvenue_ ," Jan greeted by rote, before looking up to smile, "Tonks! _Salut_! It's been days but I forgive you, since you've brought your _friend_ to see me." Moving from behind the counter where she'd been adjusting a display, she introduced herself and shook Remus's hand. Her eyes sparkled when she asked me, "Couldn't last another day without a chocolate croissant?"

"There's nothing wrong with trying to eat healthy," I said primly, before breaking down and begging, "Give me a croissant before I expire _, s'il vous plait_!"

"The accent is English, but her love of chocolate is French!" Jan told Remus as she went to fill my order. He chuckled and asked for plain croissants and hot chocolate. My friend said with studied casualness, "My husband prefers to drink his chocolate as well. You should meet him." As if just struck by the idea, she said, "Alan is conjuring chateaubriand tonight, why don't you two come for dinner? Eight o'clock? _Oui?_ Ah, more customers, here's your order, your money is no good here, Tonks, so do not try. _Au Revoir!_ "

On our way out, Remus whispered, “Thank Merlin Napoleon never had Jan for a General."

 

Hours later, as I tried to pay attention to the little old lady explaining why she'd reported her neighbour as a Dark wizard, I remembered the gleam in Remus's eye when he'd promised to come by my flat at 7:30 to…talk…before heading next door for dinner and smiled.

Mrs. Cravitz frowned. "I don't see what's so amusing about heavy metal blasting all day, and suspicious persons in black going in and out at all hours, Miss."

Tom, my partner on this thrilling assignment, smirked while I said hastily, "I was smiling because you remind me of my grandmother." He coughed to hide a laugh while the witch, who was nothing like my wonderful Gran, preened.

"Oh, that's nice, dearie, would you care for a biscuit?"

I politely declined the dubious treat. Frankly, the ginger biscuits looked harder than the treacle rock cakes Hagrid had once offered me at Hogwarts. I kept my expression under control for the rest of the interview.

Strolling next door with my partner, I said, "I bet the suspect is in a band."

White-blond eyebrows lifted as we approached the detached bungalow with its front garden overgrown with weeds. He grinned. "You're on. Loser buys lunch."

Wand in hand, I retorted, "What will your girlfriend say?"

He laughed. "Julia trusts you not to be overwhelmed by my manly charms."

I snickered as we climbed the couple of steps to the front door. Tom stood off to the side while I shifted my hair colour to bubblegum pink and rapped sharply on the door. After several minutes, it opened to reveal a man in his mid-twenties wearing a black tee and denims. His skin looked dead white in contrast to his black hair. I could see where his neighbour might think he was a Dark wizard if all his friends looked like him.

His gaze travelled over me. "Can you sing?"

I shook my head. Rolling his eyes, the bloke said, "You're the fifth one today. Sorry, bird, but looks aren't enough; you've got to have pipes."

I held up a hand, stating politely, "I'm Auror Tonks, and this is my partner Auror Fenton. We'd like to ask you some questions."

The wizard stared uncomprehendingly. "You're not here for the MegaMaggot audition?"

I shot Tom a triumphant look. "No, I'm here because a complaint has been filed."

"Shite! Not again…I tell you that Mrs. C is going to drive me clear out of town with her Dark wizard fantasies." Opening the door wider, he said, "I'm Jim, if you'd like to check the place out, go ahead. I'm getting used to it."

Tom, wand outstretched, walked in and began weaving the spell to trace Dark magic. I chatted with Jim, telling him I was a Weird Sisters fan. Surprisingly, he was, too, and we'd attended a few of the same concerts. After my partner pronounced the house clean, I shook the guitarist's hand and thanked him for his cooperation.

While we were leaving, he said, "Before I forget, 'cause I meant to ask last time Aurors showed. Isn't there something I can do about the old bat's complaints?"

Tom nodded. "File a complaint against her for false report."

Looking revolted, Jim scoffed. "Turn an old lady in? No way, I'll hex her cat or something."

I pretended not to hear that. So did Tom. I gloated once we were out of earshot. "Since you're buying, I'm picking someplace posh."

 

The restaurant we Apparated to was one I'd patronized regularly when I’d had a wealthy fiancée. Now, I went only when Tom or Julia was picking up the tab. They had vaults at Gringotts filled with old family money, and I was happy to help them spread some of that around. In deference to the elegant setting, I changed my hair back to black.

Lunch was fab. Tom was handsome in a Nordic god kind of way, but I appreciated his wicked sense of humour more than his looks. He kept me laughing with his impersonations of our fellow Aurors. When he excused himself to use the lavatory, I sat thinking how picnics in the park with Remus beat going to a fancy restaurant with anyone else. A man took the chair across from me. It was Evan.

He smiled coolly. "I heard your  _distinctive_ laugh and thought I'd come say hello."

I didn't smile. "Hello, now goodbye."

Disturbingly, his expression warmed. "Same old Nymphadora, blunt to a fault."

I shrugged. He crossed his legs and, annoyingly, managed not to look effeminate. I questioned flatly, "What do you want?"

Brushing at his trousers, Evan asked, "Are you going with Fenton now?"

I stared and then laughed harshly. "Going with my best mate's boyfriend? You may be a cheater, but I'm not."

He inclined his head, every golden strand held in place with a styling charm. "Good, then you're free to have dinner with me."

"No, I'm not. I have plans, and even if I didn't, this dinner invitation comes way too late, Evan. Sorry, but I'm not interested." My tone said I was anything but regretful.

"A date?"

"None of your business."

He said, "But it is my business, well, business that I wish to discuss, at any rate." I looked at him stonily while he explained, "The matter Rosier Industries contracted your uncle's little agency for was merely to see how well  _you_  operated. I'd like you to head my in-house agency's special projects division."

I'd suspected Evan of an ulterior motive, using the Blue Moon's services, but had shrugged it off when he hadn't tried to contact me further. Pushing back my chair, I displayed my Auror badge. "This is my job. The Blue Moon is for spending money, and you couldn't pay me enough to work for you." I stood and saw Priscilla Parkinson stomping our way. I smiled nastily. "Have a nice day."

The aristocratic chuckle was cut off by his irate fiancée demanding to know why she'd been left alone for ages. Tom was lounging against a wall near the way out.

He said blandly, "Looked like a private conversation, so I waited. Everything OK?"

I grinned my cheekiest smile. "I got a posh meal and the opportunity to throw my ex's job offer back in his face. I'm brilliant, mate." He looked relieved. We returned to the Ministry to file our report on what we now called The MegaMaggot Case.

 

That afternoon, I returned home to discover that making my way upstairs meant running a gauntlet of nosy parkers. On the ground floor, Uncle Morty called out when I opened the door to the stairway, "Jan tells me you're bringing your boyfriend over to her place for dinner. Getting serious, are you?"

I leaned into his doorway to ask, "Are you getting serious with Lisa?"

He scowled. "You changed the subject, and my private life isn't up for discussion."

Smiling like the brat he used to call me, I said, "Ditto," and left him to fume. I tried to tiptoe past the first floor landing, but Lisa must've heard her fond employer's dulcet tones. She came out of her office like a jack-in-the-box and demanded, "Spill now or face the consequences." From the office across the narrow corridor, Cami propped a shoulder against the doorframe and chuckled.

Thankful that the other three agents were out earning their pay, I admitted, "Yes, Remus and I are having dinner with Jan and Alan." I knocked on the wood of Lisa's door for good luck. "And I think we're amazing together, so I'm hoping like Hades that this works out."

They looked at each other and then smiled at me like Jan smiled at her daughter, Anouk, when she talked about her latest boyfriend. That “aw, how sweet” expression got on my nerves. These two weren't that much older than me, for Merlin's sake! I said, "So,  _Camillia_ , when are  _you_  going to go on an actual date again?"

"I haven't the foggiest. Do you know any single guys over thirty?"

I thought of Sirius. "Yeah, but he's, erm, not able to commit to a relationship right now."

Cami asked eagerly, "Is he straight?"

"Definitely."

"Is he good looking?"

I nodded. Even gaunt and screaming like a permanent resident of St. Mungo's incurable ward; Sirius's wanted posters drew interested looks from passing witches.

"Set us up, then!"

Me and my big mouth. "He's…uh…out of town right now, but when he returns, I'll, er, make dinner or something."

Cami groaned. "You'll make dinner? That's an ominous sign. Tell the truth, he's the type of guy you can't take out in public."

I laughed a bit hysterically. Lisa shook her head. "No offence, but this friend doesn't sound like a keeper to me. Cami, if you want to start going out, I've got a cousin who owns a restaurant. Jet is like you, too busy to find a date. I'll set you up."

They started discussing the particulars. I retreated up another flight of stairs to the second floor. Picking up yet another  _Daily Prophet_  I'd never read at the door of my flat, I entered and tossed it onto a pile to join its forlorn brethren. I didn't like the news, but sadly, I used to read the society section to see the photos of Evan and Priscilla. When I no longer needed the visual reinforcement to know that I was better off without him, I stopped taking the paper. Mum thought I couldn't afford it and paid for me. Cowardly, I hid the truth, collected the  _Prophets_  and gave them to the Wizard Scouts to recycle.

After taking a shower and using a depilatory charm, in case Remus wanted to check and see if my knee was totally recovered from my tumble that morning, I looked in the closet and considered what to wear. I couldn't dress up too much. It was dinner with friends. I didn't want my date to think I didn't want to look good for him, though, so I couldn't dress down. Decisions, decisions . . . . In the end, I chose a cerise silk camisole and a dark wash denim skirt. Metamorphosing maroon hair to match the top, I applied a bit of eyeliner, powder and lip-gloss and was all set.

When the door ward chimed, I let Remus in, exclaiming, "You look scrummy!" He gave that adorable huff of amusement, looking very handsome in a grey roll neck jumper and black trousers. I guess he wasn't used to my charming habit of saying whatever came to mind when I was flustered.

His eyes took in my ensemble while he said softly, " _Id tibi praebet speciem lepidissimam!"_

I sighed. "Ooohhh, Latin."

He placed his hands on my hips, stroking the silk. "I was complimenting your outfit. I said it looks great on you."

Remus kissed me. I smiled dreamily. "Tell me some more."

His lips gave me lovely shivers when he whispered in my ear, " _Romani quidem artem amatoriam invenerunt_." His low chuckle made delicious chills skitter down my spine. Looking down into my dazed eyes, he translated, "You know, the Romans invented the art of love."

"Really? So that's why you're such a great snogger."

His bark of laughter made me giggle. Remus kissed me lingeringly and said with a smile, "I think every culture believes they invented the art of love, and in a way I suppose that's true."

Sitting on the sofa with my head on his shoulder, I listened to Remus expound on that theory while thinking that for me, love had yet to be an art. What I'd experienced before had been more like a Quidditch match in which I'd gotten knocked off my broom by a Bludger. With this man, I hoped that love wouldn't be another painful fall. It had taken a long, long time to recover enough to want to chance flying again, in a matter of speaking, after Evan.

By the time we strolled over to Jan's, the last quarter moon was shining gently overhead. My fingers tightened around Remus's. I'd lived my life in the moment for over a year, and now I looked forward to dancing with my guy under the next full moon. Maybe I'd borrow my dad's enchanted record player and his 45 of  _Blue Moon._  What the heck, I'd take  _That's Amore_  too.

My friend answered the door looking svelte in a black tunic and trousers. Her husband, similarly attired in black, said, "Tonks! You look lovely, and this must be Remus, a pleasure to meet you, I'm Alan."

"Thank you for the invitation. I hope the wine compliments the dinner. La Mondotte is rather out my price range, but I was assured Ferrand-Lartique was a comparable Bordeaux blend."

Remus clearly had a more sophisticated palate than I did. I liked the blackish purple colour, but although the others chatted about the wine's rich, intense Merlot character, I thought the bouquet, with a hint of Asian spices and chocolate, was better than the taste. I drank water with the wonderful meal and enjoyed listening to Alan and Remus talk Ministry politics and the need for reform in several areas.

Jan caught me watching my date with a private smile and leaned over to say in an undertone, "Your Remus is _honnête homme_ , a gentleman. He makes your face shine. I like him very much."

I liked him very much too. My friend teased her husband about being so English that not only did he grill tomatoes for breakfast, he grilled them, this time with Parmesan, for dinner as well. Alan took that as a request to sing, " _For he is an Englishman."_ My mouth dropped open when Remus sang the next two lines from Gilbert and Sullivan's HMS Pinafore. " _And he himself hath said it, and it's greatly to his credit,"_  before the two ended with a rousing, " _That he is an Englishman!_ "

Jan and I clapped enthusiastically. I gave a wolf-whistle. Remus grinned boyishly and complimented his host on the chateaubriand. The meat was tender. It was also pink and juicy. Remus had eaten it with gusto.

After dinner, we took our coffee into the lounge to chat. Jan offered to refill my cup sometime later, and I happily accepted. Alan followed her with his and Remus's cups. I kissed my guy's cheek and asked, "Aren't they great?"

He nodded and smiled a bit sheepishly. "Truthfully, I didn't know what to expect of your friends. I'd hoped to find something to talk about and ended up monopolizing the conversation. Forgive me?"

I left my sofa cushion for his lap. Kissing him in answer, I reluctantly stood and confessed to needing to…uh…powder my nose. On the way to the loo, I passed the kitchen and saw Jan and Alan embracing. The way they kissed made me long to have what they had—a love that would last and grow and become more beautiful as the years passed. Continuing on to the lavatory, I looked in the mirror and told myself that I was a sentimental sap. My reflection nodded solemnly and then grinned.

When the hour grew late, our little party reluctantly ended. At the door, Jan kissed our cheeks while Alan hugged me and shook Remus's hand. "We never got around to exchanging last names. I'm Rocher. If you're ever in Diagon Alley, stop by the shop of the imaginatively titled same name."

"Remus Lupin, and I will, thank you again for the hospitality," Remus said. The men exchanged a few more pleasantries while I drew Jan aside.

I'd watched the smile on her face fade and asked, "What's wrong?"

She questioned softly, "Lupin is an unusual name, is it not?" I admitted that it was unique to my knowledge. Jan looked at me closely and then gave a small smile, murmuring, _"L'amour est aveugle; l'amitié ferme les yeux."_

My French was mostly Frenglish, but I'd heard that expression before and wondered, even while Remus was kissing me goodnight, what Jan had meant when she’d said:

_Love is blind; friendship closes its eyes._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are none so blind as those who will not see, eh? This chap made me think of something Steve Martin once said: "Boy, those French, they have a different word for everything!"


	8. Dark Moon

 

The double oak doors that led to Auror Headquarters were massive, impressive, and misleading. Visitors who anticipated entering some awe-inspiring sanctum of justice were often disappointed to find it a warren of cubicles. Personally, I found the mess and ever-present chatter homey.

It was true that the various Wizengamot and Magical Law Offices were spacious and posh, but everybody knew they were a bunch of quill levitators, and we were the ones doing the important work. Not that they weren’t performing a necessary service like the other offices dealing with improper uses of magic and the patrol squad that handled the ordinary criminals. It was just that, like Dad used to say about Muggle rubbish collectors, I wouldn't want their job.

The larger, less claustrophobia-inducing cubicles near the double doors belonged to the senior staff. In the far back corner, crammed together like pillboxes, were the cubicles of the lowly junior Aurors. I didn't spend much time in my little nest of paperwork, so I didn't mind being able to reach out and touch the walls while seated at my desk. In fact, being low on the totem pole came with a perk; I got to play pranks without much censure from the higher-ups.

Today, I'd decided to pull one on Tom and Julia. The lovebirds were notorious for snogging in-office before work…and during work hours…and afterwards too. I didn't begrudge them a bit of fun. In the days before Remus, however, the displays of affection would sometimes put me in a nark.

While I walked the corridor that became narrower and more winding as it reached the hinterland of novice Aurors, I began metamorphosing to resemble Madam Gulch, our no-nonsense supervisor. The witch had long, sharp features, skin so olive it looked green in some lights, and an eye-patch. Taking out the patch I'd brought along in my pocket, I put it on and cackled softly as I neared Julia's cubicle at the very end of what we called Rotten Row.

Inside, my friends were oblivious to their surroundings, happily snogging away, until I shrieked, "Conduct unbecoming to an Auror!" They jerked apart, Jul toppling from her partner's lap to land on the floor. She scrambled up, sputtering apologies. I crooked my finger menacingly and said, "I'll get you my pretty, and your little boyfriend too!"

Tom erupted into laughter as I whipped off the eye-patch and winked. Julia gave me a Stinging Hex. Shifting back to my normal self, if there was such a thing, I alternately laughed my arse off and shook the hand that stung like a blast-ended skrewt had got hold of me.

She yelled, "You witch!"

I smiled and lifted my reddened, still painful hand. "Are you going to do something about this, or should I get Fenton to kiss and make it better?"

Julia waved her wand. Sighing in relief, I told Tom, "Sorry mate, it wasn't meant to be." He chuckled, the good-natured soul. Jul still looked sulky. I brought out the bag from  _Chocolat_.

Her expression changed radically. "For me?"

I nodded. "An assortment of truffles."

A couple of hours later, our trio headed toward the Muggle Underground. We were sent to investigate a report that was coded as requiring three Aurors to investigate.

"I can't believe an OWL sent by a squib calling himself Mr. Bojangles was given credence," Julia complained. She looked down at her blouse and tweed trousers and said, "At least we get to wear street clothes while we see if this busker is really using Dark magic."

Tom smiled, looking sophisticated in a black shirt and trousers. I consoled myself that I was the most colourful. A few shops down from Jan's was  _Shankira's_ , which sold clothing from India. It supplied me with tunics that were pretty and allowed a range of movement from drawing a wand to diving out of harm's way. My top in shades of teal and green went fab with denims. When Fenton snickered that the sixties were long over, I held up two fingers to give him an anti-peace sign.

Watching Muggles shuffle along into the tube, I listened to them mumble and complain and wondered how they stood it day after day. It looked like a right grind. Our suspected Dark wizard was playing to the passers-by underneath the westbound platform sign. Nearby, an Italian accordion player and an enthusiastic, if untalented bloke with Baka drums slung around his neck, competed for bits of change. In pleasant contrast to the faces around him, our suspect “Wizard Waldo” played his guitar with a sunny smile and wasn't half bad. I'd heard worse Beatles renditions, certainly.

"I don't have any Galleons on me. Do you think he'd like my diamond earrings?"

Tom gawked at Julia. "What?"

I pulled her hand down before she could unfasten a carat stud and said a counter spell. "She drew the short quill and didn't use a Shield Charm, remember?"

He nodded ruefully. "Let's go make an arrest."

We headed toward the situation artist who accepted his audience's magically enhanced generosity into his hat with a charming smile. The wizard was only in his twenties. I thought of my Gran sniffing disapprovingly and saying that the young man should get “a real job” and smiled. In a routine we'd never done outside of simulation, I used an Anti-Disapparating jinx on the busker while Julia said, “ _Accio wand,”_ and Tom simultaneously hit the wizard with a Confundus Charm.

While Tom and I greeted Waldo as our mate who we'd promised to take to lunch, Julia used Prior Incantato to reveal the wizard's last spell. It was a variation of an Entrancing Enchantment. The spell caused the listener to support the busker with all the change in their possession. Unfortunately for our aspiring artist, there was a Dark magic chaser to the enchantment. If the listener didn't have any change, they'd feel compelled to give whatever they did have. There were several watches and an assortment of jewellery in the hat. Grinning at each other over our flawless execution, we took the evidence and our confused “friend” into custody. Before we left the Underground to escort Waldo to gaol, I gave the accordionist some Muggle change I'd brought along, just in case. Who could resist Rossini?

Lauded by our envious fellow underlings for the bust, the rest of the day passed pleasantly. The three other reports of Dark magic we investigated turned out to be Megamaggots. Julia shuddered every time Tom and I used our favourite new term for unsubstantiated claims, which of course ensured that we'd use it until it no longer got a reaction.

I practically skipped my way through the Atrium to reach the Floos. Earning disapproving glances, I ignored them in my anticipation of seeing Remus and telling him about my day. He was going to meet me at the Floo station near my Gran's and accompany me to her flat for tea. Except for Rory, I'd never brought a boyfriend round to see her before.

The moment I saw him, looking so handsome and kissable while waiting for me in the crowded station, I rushed over. A little boy leading his mum on a merry chase barrelled into me, knocking me off balance and literally into Remus's arms. The boy grinned and kept going. I wound my arms around Remus's neck. In imitation of the proper English couple nearby, I drawled, "Hullo, darling. How was your day?"

I loved to make Remus laugh. There was something about that hint of sadness in his face the first night we'd met that compelled me to be silly or snog him. I wanted to do something, anything, to see him smile.

The brown eyes looking into mine were playful. "I'll let you know in a minute." His lips were warm, firm and reduced me to a boneless state. After several long, sweet kisses, he smiled. "I've had a wonderful day."

I sighed happily as we walked hand in hand toward the block of flats. I listened to his story of having to tell not one, but two clients that their prized texts were artful forgeries before sharing my triumph at the tube station. Remus was duly impressed and amused by my enthusiastic retelling.

He kissed my cheek as we waited for Gran to answer the door. "That was kind of you, to give the busker change."

My face heated. I shrugged. "Any bloke who can play The Thieving Magpie on the accordion deserves it." He chuckled as the door opened.

"Nym, dear, come in and introduce me to your young man," Gran said, beaming.

Remus's brows rose at being called a young man, but he recovered quickly and smiled with a charm that was natural and appealing as I made the introductions. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tonks."

Gran waved us toward the settee, eyes twinkling. "Andie will be so jealous that I met Mr. Lupin first." She waved to the heavily laden table in front of the settee. "Make yourselves at home." Sitting in her swivel chair, Gran poured tea and watched us devour sandwiches and cake with a pleased, motherly gleam in her eyes. There's a satisfaction gained from feeding others that I'd felt myself when preparing breakfast for Remus. Of course, I didn't look at him as though I wanted to pat his cheek, like my grandmother did—unless it was a different cheek. I hastily got my mind off its primrose path. Gran told me that Cousin Lora was getting married to a nice barrister named Gerald Butler.

"Lora?" Remus asked, giving me a wolfish smile. The room began to feel very, very warm.

I explained that she was my third cousin, her mum Judith being dad's first cousin on my Gran's side of the family. "So no worries for me about being driven mental from hearing Tonks constantly and trying to figure out who they're calling."

"When she was little, Nym talked Lora, who was older and should've known better, into trading names," Gran told Remus, who grinned when I protested.

"I didn't use a Coercion Charm, she just liked my name . . . and I gave her an enchanted marble." Remus laughed. It was such a warm, pleasant sound that I smiled widely even while I griped, "She never gave the marble back, either."

The doorbell rang. Gran and I looked at each other and giggled. She rose to answer the door. "Sharing a pizza is one of our little traditions. Do you like extra cheese, Remus?" Bemusedly, he nodded. I cleared off the table while she took delivery of the pizza.

In the kitchen, I looked in her fridge for a fizzy drink and grabbed a couple of bottles. Giving one to Remus, I plopped back down beside him and opened my lemonade. He gave me a slice of pizza. I ate while admiring the way Gran subtly pried information out of my guy. She sweetly discovered his age, occupation, and that he had no fear of commitment, just had never met a woman he could commit to before. I almost choked on a swallow of lemonade when I heard that. He took my hand in his. I hoped he wouldn't do that pulse-check thing because my heart was pounding from the way he'd implied _before now_.

The undoubtedly starry look in my eyes changed to alarm when Gran turned on the telly. "Our programme is almost on, dear."

I stammered, "Er…Gran…I…erm…don't think that programme is quite what Remus is used to…and…well…perhaps it would be best—"

"I've watched the Goggle Box now and then. I don't mind if you wish to view a programme." He smiled mischievously. "I wouldn't want to break a tradition."

I bloody well wanted to break a tradition! Unfortunately, the theme music for  _EastEnders_ signalled that all hope of that was lost. I wanted to slide down the settee and perhaps crawl out of the room when Remus gave a huff of amusement and said, "I've heard of this…ahem…programme…but I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the plot or characters."

Gran was more than happy to tell him all about who was doing what to whom on the show. I resisted the urge to cover my face in shame. I did scrunch my eyes closed for a moment when Gran said in a low, shocked, voice, "Phil's drinking is gone out of control. If Lisa finishes with him this episode, it will serve him right."

Remus's hand tightened around mine. I tilted my head to peer at him. He winked. I shut my eyes again. He said, "You're going to miss out on Melanie calling things off if you do that."

I laughed reluctantly. He was a good sport about watching the melodrama, so I could take a bit of teasing. As the show went on, I could tell that even though Remus was laughing at the characters, he found them interesting. I shook my head and gave him a brushing/flossing mint.

He grinned. " _EastEnders_  giving you ideas, is it?"

"No, you are," I replied pertly, pretending not to hear Gran murmur that it was about time. My guy and Gran kept up a mock-serious commentary, agreeing that Phil had alienated Jamie and driven away Lisa with his drinking problem. I was content, listening to them and viewing my guilty pleasure programme, until Troy and Irene came onscreen.

Gran told Remus, "Those two are up to no good. She's no better than she should be, going behind Terry's back to have an affair with Troy."

Watching Troy turn the fictional flat into a love nest to have another night with Irene, my stomach began to twist into knots. I detested that storyline.

"I don't think there's any excuse for infidelity either," Remus said.

My Gran nodded approvingly at us. I realised that I'd spoken aloud. My feet aren't the only part of me that's clumsy at times. Remus was looking at me with a still intensity that told me he knew there was more than basic morality prompting my loathing. I tried to shrug off my tenseness, but I couldn't. By the time the next episode promised Irene would deceive Terry to steal another night with Troy, I couldn't wait to leave. I cleared the table and thanked Gran for the tea. She kissed my cheek, and then Remus's, telling him to visit her again soon.

In the lift, he asked, "What's wrong?"

I shrugged. "Nothing, I just don't care for glorifying cheating, that's all. They make it seem as if the people involved can't help themselves, like their clothes just fell off somehow." Remus didn't smile, which didn't bother me because I wasn't being funny. "If you've got an itch, well of course you've got to scratch it, right? I mean, the partner you're lying to and cheating on, their feelings don't matter compared satisfying a grand passion, or even a random lust. Why not take your opportunity to get a little something on the side?"

The doors opened to the lobby. Mortified by my outburst, I stumbled out of the lift and hurried out of the building. Remus caught up to me as I strode down the pavement. He said quietly, "This isn't about a soap opera, is it?"

I looked around wildly. No Muggles were in sight, so I Disapparated. Remus Apparated behind me while I released the wards to the Blue Moon. Too upset to talk, I opened the door and gestured for him to enter. The climb up the stairs to my flat seemed to take forever. I could feel Remus's eyes on my back and wondered why he put up with me. In my lounge, he approached me slowly, like I was some feral cat who would just as soon scratch as purr when touched. Perhaps he knew me better than I knew myself. I stiffened when his arms drew me close. Turning to lay my head on his shoulder, I was silent for several minutes while he soothingly caressed my arms and back.

Eventually, I confessed huskily, "The night I went to give Evan back his ring, I found him in bed with Priscilla Parkinson. He told me that the only reason he'd proposed was to win my loyalty to him. He'd wanted to use my abilities to his advantage in business, and in gaining favour with Dark wizards who knew the true meaning of power." I took a shaky breath and whispered, "He said I would be replaced at the snap of his fingers, that Priscilla at least had connections and wouldn't embarrass him with her impure blood."

I was shaking like I had that night I'd gone to Evan's. I'd been genuinely torn up over my decision not to marry a man who dreamt of power acquired by any means necessary. Unlike that night, I didn't throw a tantrum at a wall-length aquarium. I still felt guilty over causing innocent little fish to pour out onto the floor and flop around, gills gasping for water. Instead, I took great, shuddering, breaths and began to cry.

"Shhh . . . it’s all right . . . I’m here."

Sobs wracked my body. After I was finished releasing the emotions I'd been suppressing, Remus's robes were soaked through. Sniffing, I performed a dry cleaning spell, accepted a handkerchief without looking up and dried tears while fixing my face. I didn't need a Complexion Charm to clear splotchy, puffy skin. When I felt my appearance no longer frightening, I dared to look up. What I saw in Remus's eyes made tears spring to mine again.

He said, "I've known pain that lingered far after I'd forgiven the person who inflicted it."

My lips twisted. "I made the decision to forgive Evan for being an amoral arsehole, but it's a lot harder trying to forget."

Remus's smile was sad. "Some things, you never forget, but you learn to live with them." He cupped my face in his hands. His smile became tender. "It's made me cherish the gifts I've been given even more."

I rose on my toes to kiss him. How could I not when he was the best gift that life had ever given me? I brushed my lips across his and felt him smile. Remus's lips parted. I poured myself into the kiss, sinking my fingers into his hair to keep his mouth where I wanted it, fused to mine. After our embrace reached a point where I could imagine a series of lines that I wasn't ready to cross, I said, "The moon's not much to look at right now, but I'd love it if you'd come up and watch the stars with me."

Lying in Remus's arms as the stars faded was another gift I cherished.

 


	9. The Serpent and the Moon

 

Morty showed up at my door bright and early. Cheerfully inviting him to help himself to my coffeepot, I kissed my uncle's bristly cheek and bounded downstairs to meet Remus. We'd gone running each morning for a fortnight now, and had been going together for three weeks. I'd never been happier.

My contented smile faded when I saw that Remus wore wizard robes, not running clothes. "You can't go running this morning," I blurted in disappointment and then asked, "You have a meeting?"

He gave me a lingering kiss and smiled regretfully. "Yes, a new client wants to discuss my authenticating his portion of Sallust's  _Bellum Catilinae_." His eyes lit up like mine did spying chocolate. "Only fragments of the histories survive, so the fact that his acquisition is incomplete is promising."

I didn't care about some old war history, but my guy's enthusiasm was infectious. I returned his smile and said, "I'll survive, although I might shorten my run and head for  _Chocolat_."

Remus hugged me. I leaned against him, savouring the warm, solid strength of his body before looking up into his face to kiss him. I noticed that he was looking tired. "Have you been getting enough sleep?" I asked.

"Are you telling me I look my age this morning?" His grin was a ghost of the wolfish one he usually gave.

Care lines didn't worry me. It was pallid skin and faint shadows under wryly amused brown eyes that were the cause for concern. "I don't care about looks. I care about your health," I said firmly.

He ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek. "My health is fine. Too many late nights translating have exacerbated a…health problem…that's all. I promise to get more rest, if I'm not lured up to rooftops to watch the stars."

Reassured, I feigned a pout. "Darn. The first quarter moon will be exceptionally luminescent tonight." His brows arched. I smirked. "Dad got Outstandings in Astronomy. I know loads of useless trivia." I pronounced theatrically, "October's moon is called the Blood Moon or the Hunter's Moon." In my own lighter tone I inquired, "Which name do you prefer?"

"Hunter's Moon."

Something flared in his eyes, a gleam that made me ask huskily, "Why?"

His hands glided up my back and sifted through raspberry coloured hair that matched the trim on my running shorts. Doing that deep breathing thing like he was drawing in my scent, Remus said with a predatory smile, "Perhaps I'll be hunting my snogging partner." I burst into laughter. He chuckled and said once I'd finished, "Actually, I’m here for a reason other than to kiss you good morning or to let you know I won't be able to go running."

My eyes widened. I whispered, "Our Underground friends are having a meeting?"

"Not a full meeting, only a handful will attend."

And we were part of the chosen group? Sounded like more polyjuice/metamorphosing fun. I nodded. "Just tell me where and when."

He bent and kissed me before his lips trailed across to my ear to whisper the location and time. I murmured, “Mmmm” to show that I understood before planting a kiss on him to keep our image of a pair having a kiss and cuddle intact. This cloak and dagger stuff had its perks. When Remus decided that we'd _established_ our cover well enough, he Apparated. Sighing heavily, I did a brief version of my normal stretching routine and took off on a short run.

 

Jan was creating a new window display when I returned. I waved and would've gone past to eat a nutritious breakfast, but she opened the shop door and called, "Were you going to run past without saying _bonjour_?"

How she could look perfect at this hour of the day mystified me. Trying not to be envious of my neighbour's simple elegance, I admitted, "Yes, I was attempting to resist temptation, but if you're offering." Jan smiled and said she'd saved me a couple of éclairs. I decided to do penance for food sins later by having salad for lunch.

Inside her commercial kitchen, my friend served me the promised éclairs with coffee and asked, " _Comment allez vous?_ "

"I'm happy." I saw her pleased smile and grinned. "I'm not asking how you're doing. I saw first-hand when you had us over for dinner and my eyes beheld smug marrieds snogging in the kitchen." The éclair tasted even better watching my sophisticated pal turn pink.

She shrugged. "At least we were not snogging in the street."

"Who told you that? Alan? We were on the pavement!"

We smiled at each other. It was nice, joking about our relationships. A tawny owl flapped its wings against the window pane. Jan took the letter, gave the owl a treat, and opened the missive as the bird flew off.

"It's from Anouk!" She beamed. Mums always had a glow about them when they talked about their children. Well, the good mothers I'd met, anyways. I told her to go ahead and read the letter while I finished my éclairs. With a distracted, “ _Merci_ ,” her eyes rapidly scanned the parchment. After she'd read the letter, Jan confided, "Anouk does not care for her new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

My brows went up. The sixteen-year-old was the sweetest, most easy-going soul I knew except for Remus. "Why not?"

"He is impatient and gruff, with none of his predecessor's _bonhomie_. She does not think this professor will ever be as good-natured or kind to his students." Jan looked across the worktable at me and froze.

Distracted from asking the name of Anouk's teacher, past or present, I asked, "Are you OK?"

" _Bien sur_ , of course I am, it is just…I am supposed to be opening the shop for customers, and time has run away from me." Jan gave another one of those Gallic shrugs that I wished I could do half so well.

Thanking her for the coffee and pastries, I headed through the shop and said, "I'll see you later."

She corrected, " _Non, a bientot_."

"Sooner is better than later, dear," one of the customers who had been waiting remarked, as she passed me on the way to the patisserie counters. I smiled and waved to Jan before making for my flat and a shower.

 

Work that day was loads more enjoyable than I'd expected it to be. Gulch, the humourless witch, had somehow learnt of my little impersonation. She'd retaliated by lending me, like a ruddy book, to the most boring department of Magical Law Enforcement: Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. The office made the junior Auror area look posh. It was down a dark corridor across from a broom cupboard. I'd thought my cubicle a rat's nest of paperwork until I stepped into the windowless room.

It was packed with filing cabinets that looked in imminent danger of spilling their contents out onto the floor. I liked the Muggle posters on the walls, but the two desks placed in the centre of the room facing each other were overloaded with bewitched items. They made me— _me_ —long for a rubbish bin to start chucking things out to tidy the place.

"Good Morning!" the man who'd risen from his seat said with a smile. I took one look at his red hair and freckles and grinned.

"Wotcher, Mr. Weasley." I shook his outstretched hand. "You might not remember me. I—"

"You went to school with my son Charlie. I remember. He escorted you to the Yule Ball, if I'm not mistaken."

Since he continued to smile warmly, I figured that meant Charlie hadn't told his parents what else had happened. I'd left him to visit the lavatory and didn't return for an hour. Evan had been wildly jealous, and I'd been so thrilled to have him leave Prissy Parkinson's side to sweep me away that I hadn't considered how my own date would feel. I'd apologized to Charlie tearfully, feeling lower than shite, but our friendship had never been the same. That had pleased Evan. Why I hadn't seen those events as a sign of things to come, I had no clue. Perhaps love really was blind.

I was genuinely happy to hear of Charlie's promotion to dragon keeper at the reserve in Romania. I asked about the rest of the clan and was shown pictures and regaled with stories. After a half-hour had passed, Mr. Weasley wound down and introduced me to his employee, Perkins. The old warlock smiled at me timidly and bent his white head to study the Muggle artefact in his hand once more. Curious, I looked over his stooped shoulder and asked, "What do you have there?"

"That is what I am trying to decipher," Perkins said amiably, holding up the object.

I laughed. They stared. I explained, "It's a remote control device."

Mr. Weasley crowded close to the item, face bright with excitement. “What does it control?"

Pressing my lips together to keep from laughing again, I exhaled and said, "A Muggle Telly, you know, television…goggle box…idiot box…opiate of the masses…whatever you want to call it. The remote turns the power on and off, changes the channels, and controls the volume." Perkins handed me the device. I pointed it at him, telling Arthur, "If a wizard had a nagging wife, I could see him using Dark magic to mute her." Perkins stared at me with wide eyes, his mouth moving without making a sound. Crap, I'd accidentally pushed the button!

"Well, that's not on the same scale as shoes that make the wearer dance themselves to exhaustion or death, but Mr. Bucket will receive a stiff fine all the same." Arthur helped his dazed associate stand. "We'll drop Perkins off at St. Mungo's and be on our way, shall we?"

Arthur Weasley was the nicest man. Unfailingly polite to those who would try the patience of Merlin himself—like the Welcome Witch who insisted on Perkins stating his ailment. The old warlock finally grabbed parchment and quill, scrawling, “Dark magic muted my voice, you bloody cow!” A volunteer escorted Perkins to the fourth floor to have the spell damage reversed.

Mr. Weasley and I made several visits to homes and businesses that had been reported for having Dark Arts objects or Muggle artefacts that were being misused. We confiscated a couple of voodoo dolls and a harmonica that compelled the user to play until they either passed out or were knocked out by listeners. At the end of the day, I shook Arthur's hand and told him he'd been a pleasure to work with. As I left his cramped office, I heard him muse, "I wonder if the remote could be programmed to work temporarily on one's children?"

 

Later that evening, I flooed to a working class, Wizarding section of the city and found the address I was looking for. As I climbed the stairs to the flat located above a corner shop, I wondered whose place I was visiting. When the wizard opened the door and smiled, I knew. It was Remus's flat. I kissed him hello and stepped inside. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

He waved a hand at the space that was filled with bookcases and tables piled with texts and parchments. In the corner that was intended to hold a dining table, two club chairs with a multipurpose table in between them and two folding chairs stood waiting for company. "I'm not exactly set up for having guests." His lips curved. "I meet clients in the rare bookshop I do authentications for, but I do my work here."

I pointed to a worktable. "Is the Sallust over there?"

Remus nodded in satisfaction. "Gaius Sallustius Crispus.  I believe it will prove authentic."

"Crikey, I'd thought my name bad. No wonder he went by Sallust!"

His bark of laughter made me smile. I said, "Mum always told me that couples should pretend that they don't have bodily functions, but I need to use the loo, so will you point me the way?"

"It's off the bedroom, right through there."

The front door ward chimed. Remus went to answer it while I stepped from the lounge into the bedroom. It was smaller than mine, more like a hermit's cell, with its single bed and small chest. Nosily, I pressed the wall shared with the lounge. It slid open to reveal an enchanted wardrobe. Resisting the urge to fondle his clothing like a besotted schoolgirl, I contained myself to rubbing the sleeve of his dress robes against my cheek before closing the panel.

Inside the lavatory, I took care of the function Remus wasn't supposed to think of me having. I contemplated the room, realising what had bothered me when I entered. This space was much longer than the bedroom. In flats like mine, the lavatory was the length of the bedroom wall it bordered. Therefore, since this flat didn't border another one, his bedroom should've been twice as large. After washing my hands, I stepped out and took a close look at the back of the room between the foot of the bed and the lavatory wall. I couldn't see anything, but when I reached out my hand, I felt an invisible door handle. My heart jolted. I felt like the girl in one of those Grimm tales my Gran was so weirdly fond of… _Bluebeard_. I got a hold of my runaway imagination. I would trust Remus with my life. Perhaps it was a safe place to hold priceless documents.

"Tonks?"

I spun around. "Hi, erm, the paint on the back wall. What colour is it? It looks different from the other walls."

Remus gazed at me steadily. "Magnolia. It looks different because the paint is newer."

"Oh." I wanted to ask why the paint was newer, but Emmeline Vance called out, "The meeting will start once you join us."

My guy stood quietly while I kissed him in silent apology for being a snoop. His smile understood and forgave as he escorted me to where Kingsley and Emmeline waited. I sat down on a folding chair and said, "So, who do you want us to be this time?"

Kingsley said, "Elspeth and Terrence Travers. An informant found out that there's a party tonight of known supporters of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. We need to know what they're planning, and if their Dark Lord has indeed returned."

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the draft in the room. "Where's the party?"

Remus answered, "Rosier's in an hour."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" I tried not to sound accusing.

"I didn't know until this afternoon. I wanted to spare—I thought it would be easier on you this way."

It was. I could do it, but I warned Emmeline, "Someone was watching us closely the last time we played Mr. and Mrs. Travers. Too much suspicion and we'll find ourselves in a very dicey situation. This needs to be the last time we impersonate them."

She nodded in stately agreement, clutching her emerald shawl closer. I asked, "Is that your good luck shawl or something?"

The men gaped. The older witch nodded. "My late husband intended to give me this shawl for our anniversary fifteen years ago. I came home to find a Dark Mark over our house and the box on the bed beside his body. I've worn it ever since, in hopes that on the other side, Winston sees and knows that he has never been forgotten." She extended me a handkerchief. "What a sentimental child you are. I didn't tell you that to make you cry."

I sniffed inelegantly and wiped my face. "Oh yes, you did, and I deserved it."

She patted my hand. "Perhaps just a tad. Now come into the other room. I'll help you get dressed while Remus puts on something a little more uncomfortable."

I gave a watery laugh and followed her into the bedchamber. Emmeline looked around and said, "Well, this confirms that there has been no woman in Remus's life for longer than he'd care to admit, I'll warrant. Does that thought cheer you up, my romantic friend?"

Nodding, I took the garment bag from her and unzipped it to reveal a little black dress. Must be a cocktail party: a few drinks, a few diabolical plans, maybe a game of billiards.

After metamorphosing my features into those of a blonde with more hair than wit, I strolled into the lounge and watched Remus's jaw drop. I turned to Emmeline. "See, I'm not the only one who thinks this neckline is indecent. These things are going to fall out!"

"No, they won't, because I would never buy a dress without a charm to prevent…ahem…wardrobe malfunction." Winking so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it, she said dryly, "As a distraction, you can see it will be most effective."

If the nods of the men were any indication, she was right. Tossing my annoying long hair, I told Remus with a narrowed gaze, "Don't even think about them…I mean it."

He chuckled along with the others. Curling my lip in a way that used to make my Potions partner dissolve into giggles, I stalked out. Remus and I Apparated to the front entrance of the Rosier home and walked up the steps to be admitted. Pinning on my most vacuous smile, I tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and began my game of make believe.

Our host looked icily handsome. He kissed my cheek and shook “Terrence's” hand before inviting us to join the others in the lounge. I recognised most of the people there from the days when I'd been the woman on Evan's arm. Upstanding members of society all, they hid their allegiance to old, Dark ways behind a polite smile and numerous donations to the Ministry. They bought influence, and maybe even a blind eye to the increasing number of mysterious disappearances, of Dark objects confiscated as well as a deaf ear to the rumours of a Dark Lord's return. We mingled and sipped our wine that I'm sure was elite. I would've rather had a fizzy drink.

Prissy Parkinson did not show to advantage in her black dress. I couldn't help but be flattered when Remus looked from her to me and shook his head slightly, as if wondering how Evan could've been such a fool.

She saw me and gushed, "Elspeth, you look divine."

"You, too," I returned with a gleaming false smile.

Prissy batted her lashes at Remus and said, "I can't abide visiting the water closet on my own when I could have a chat on the way. I'm going to steal our Elspeth for a bit."

I went along with her, feigning attention to her running commentary on how worthless house-elves were, and why did the best dress shops allow Mudbloods to shop with purebloods, and was I looking forward to the Halloween Party? I nodded and breathed a sigh of relief when the silly twit entered a toilet closet. Staring at my tanned reflection in the mirror, I remembered another party like this one, when I'd seen my fiancée chatting with Prissy and wondered if the pair were more than old friends.

Suspicious, I'd followed her to the loo and used a Sleep Charm on her before transforming my dress and features. Returning as Priscilla, I'd boldly chatted up Evan. He'd suggested we go talk someplace private. Hiding my anger, I'd allowed myself to be whisked into a bedroom. Just before I hexed his arse, he'd stopped kissing my neck and rolled away, lying back on the mattress to laugh.

_"Merlin, you're good, Tonks, but I couldn't stand groping Parkinson anymore just to teach you a lesson about trust."_

_I stared. "Why do you call me Tonks?"_

_Evan rolled onto his side and snuffled my neck. "You're the only woman I've known who doesn't drench her skin in perfume."_

_Metamorphosing back to normal, I whispered, "I want to trust you, Evan."_

_"Trust my love, if nothing else," he said before kissing me._

I hadn't gone down memory lane for the scenery. I'd just remembered the appraising look Evan had given me after kissing my cheek. Stars and stones, I wasn't wearing perfume! A woman entered the powder room. She wore a soft, sensual fragrance that would do nicely. After greeting me coolly, she looked into the mirror and began to freshen her lipstick. I said, "I hate to impose, but my husband remarked how striking your perfume was, and I rushed out of the house without any. Would you allow me to use yours?"

This kind of woman found the combination of flattery and humble pleading irresistible. Her thin lips relaxed into a condescending smile. "My husband adores Moonlight Path as well. It reminds him of the garden at midnight." The gratitude I expressed was returned with a gracious nod. By the time Prissy rejoined me, I was anointed with a discreet amount of perfume blended from lavender, roses, violets and musk. Outside, a wizard in dress robes leaned a shoulder against the wall.

Straightening, he said, "Priscilla, darling, go talk with Narcissa Malfoy. She hasn't left the bar, and Lucius would prefer her to remain coherent, if not sober."

"Aren't you coming?" she asked fretfully.

"In a moment, after I've delivered Elspeth to her husband."

I widened my eyes. "Isn't Terrence in the lounge?"

"No, he's in the library."

My eyes met Priscilla's. She looked the way I must have once upon a time, worried about Evan's fidelity. Unlike me, Prissy knew full well that her fiancée was going to play her false and had chosen to live with it. Even though I had every reason to pay her back, I smiled reassuringly. She threw me a grateful look and turned away. I made myself place my hand on Evan's sleeve.

He murmured, "Right this way."

 


	10. Crying for the Moon

 

I've always been a keen observer. The expressions that cross people's faces tell you a lot about their mood and the situation they're in. When I became aware that I could use metamorphosing to become other people, I employed my natural inclination to study others to make my impersonations more believable. That experience came in handy as Evan escorted me to the library. I brought everything I could remember about Elspeth to the front of my mind and entered the book-lined room with a trusting smile on my face, calling, "Terrence?" The chamber was empty. What a surprise. If I was being myself, I would've demanded to know why he'd brought me there. Instead, I said with a frown of confusion, "He's not here."

"No? Well, perhaps he was delayed talking to someone." Evan steered me toward the leather sofa. "I'll keep you company until he arrives."

Sharks probably smiled like that right before the weird membrane slid over their eyes and they started biting. Being Elspeth, I couldn't punch him in the nose. I just sat obediently on the edge of the sofa and smoothed down my skirt in a nervous gesture I'd seen the woman use before.

His fingertips trailed over my shoulder and down my arm. I fought the urge to scoot out of reach while he said silkily, "It's touching, really, how you and Terrence are so  _passionate_ about each other after years of marriage."

I looked down, as if shy. "Thank you."

Evan was staring at my profile. I met his eyes for a moment and saw that same cool, appraising expression he'd regarded me with when I arrived. He mused, "The last time you were here, that…embrace…of yours reminded me of something."

"Oh?" I said bewilderedly, as though I had no clue why he would discuss such a matter.

He leaned closer and murmured, "You reminded me of my fiancée, who used to try to climb into my skin on this very sofa."

My cheeks burned. I bit my lip, not out of embarrassment, but because Evan was a liar, and I was sorely tempted to call him one. I'd only sat on his lap once, and that was sideways. He'd kissed me for a few minutes before rising to his feet and setting me away from him. I remembered being told that it wasn't the proper time or place for that sort of thing. Softly, I said, "I'm sure Priscilla would do it again if she thought you wanted her to."

He said, "I meant my ex-fiancée."

" _Oh,"_  I said, as if acutely uncomfortable, which was no stretch.

Evan chuckled. "You're even better than you were a year ago, Nymphadora."

Wide-eyed, I shook my head. "I'm Elspeth. Don't you remember? I'll go get Priscilla. She'll tell you." When I tried to rise, his hand curled around my bicep and kept me seated.

His head bent toward mine. "I don't know what you're up to, but I'll enjoy finding out."

I tried to lean away. "I…I don't understand!"

His free hand came up to hold my chin. "Sure you do. You've been playing a little game that you just lost. Match point goes to me, because I remember that you don't wear—" Evan halted, breathed deeply, and said disbelievingly, "Perfume."

Clinging to my assumed personae by the tips of temporarily long fingernails, I whimpered. "I'm wearing perfume. I'm Elspeth, and...and you're scaring me, Mr. Rosier!"

" _What's going on in here?"_

My “husband” was striding into the library, looking dangerous. I gasped, "Terry, I…I don't feel so good. I want to go home."

I'd heard Elspeth use the exact same phrasing at another party where an influential wizard had tried to get off with her, and she'd obviously wanted to avoid creating a scene with her possessive spouse. The instant Evan released his hold I rushed over to Remus. He put an arm around me protectively and continued to silently demand an explanation from our host.

Evan drawled, "A misunderstanding, that's all. I didn't cause you any discomfort, did I, Mrs. Travers?"

Shaking my head the way Elspeth would've, I said breathily, "Oh, no, no, I…I just felt unwell and you kept me company, and I need to go home and lie down, that's all, really."

"Very well, darling, we'll use the Floo. Good night, Rosier."

Evan murmured his farewell with a small smile that remained fixed as we walked toward the fireplace. I realised why; we'd have to clearly state our destination and I had no clue what the Traverses called their home. Thinking fast, I clutched Remus’s sleeve and implored, "Could we stop by the apothecary's in Diagon Alley first? He'll know which potion I should take."

"Of course."

I didn't look at Evan when I threw the Floo powder. Stepping out onto the pavement, I turned to see Remus as Travers exit the Floo. I hugged him tight and whispered, "We should visit the apothecary's, just in case he checks our story." He gave me an approving look. I thought he was going to kiss my cheek but he stiffened and pulled away. I asked, "What's the matter?" Remus shook his head without replying. I walked beside him down the alley, rubbing my arms and feeling cold.

Returning to his flat after purchasing a potion for headaches, I smiled lopsidedly at Kingsley when I stepped out of the fireplace. He looked surprised to see us back so soon. I said, "Rosier doubted that  _Elspeth_  was who she appeared to be, but I think I allayed his suspicions."

"Did you learn anything?" he asked urgently.

"No," Remus stated baldly, "we weren't there long enough."

"I learnt there's going to be a Halloween Party," I said. "That would be the perfect cover for a secret meeting."

Kingsley grinned, his gold earring giving him the look of a pirate who'd just discovered treasure. "Excellent. We'll work on finding a way in."

I left him chatting to Remus while I went into the bedroom to change. Immediately metamorphosing my face back to normal, I stripped the dress off and put on my own top and denims. In the bathroom, I used a flannel to cleanse the makeup off my face. The reflection of a man with grey streaked hair and brown eyes materialized in the mirror. I whirled around, "You…you took a reversal potion?"

He shook his head. "I used an Illusion Charm to become Travers."

I said what seemed to be my word for the night once more, "Oh." I looked beyond his shoulder. "Kingsley still here?"

"No, he's gone."

I didn't like the way Remus was looking and sounding so distant. Bluntly, I asked, "What's wrong?"

The dangerous expression was back. Moving forward, he inhaled sharply and growled, "I can smell Rosier's cologne. Did you let him put his hands all over you for old time's sake?"

Defiantly, I held out my arms. "Why don't you use your big nose and smell for yourself?"

We stared at each other. Anger and something else hot sparked between us. My gaze fell to his lips. I looked up to see Remus close his eyes and shake his head. "I don't need to. I know you didn't ask to be put in that situation. I saw Rosier holding your arm and I wanted to rip his off. I'm sorry."

I tried to joke, "Does this mean you're not going to sniff me?"

He smiled and pulled me close. "I'd rather kiss you."

I slid my arms up around his neck. I loved the way his lips were soft, yet firm and pressed mine apart so tenderly. Swaying against him, I barely noticed that he'd backed us out of the loo and into his room. My eyes were closed, so the floating, falling sensation was ascribed to the way he made me feel inside as we kissed. When I felt the mattress beneath me, my eyes popped wide opened. I rolled onto my side to make room for him.

"I just want to hold you close for a while, and I don't have a sofa, so…I'll be a gentleman," Remus promised huskily.

Feeling like a silly ingénue and yet relieved all the same, I traced his features with my fingertips and brushed my mouth against his. Several kisses later, he pulled away and asked with a smile, "You think I've got a big nose?"

I ran a finger down its length. "No, that was just a figure of speech. I think you've got a classic nose. Roman, even."

" _Roman_ , hmmm, I'm flattered." Rubbing his nose along mine, he said, "Yours is beautiful."

I changed it to a pig snout. "Really? How kind of you to say so." He chuckled. After metamorphosing my nose back into shape, I tickled him. "I'll teach you to laugh at my nose." His unrestrained laughter made me giggle. Remus grabbed me and began tickling my sides in retaliation. Shrieking with laughter, I lunged to get away. We rolled off the narrow bed and onto the floor. I exclaimed, "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry, Remus. Are you all right?"

Sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, he grinned. "I'm brilliant."

I smiled and stood, giving him a hand up. Reluctantly, I said, "I'd better go home and let you catch up on your rest."

He inclined his head toward the window. "The moon is especially luminescent tonight, but it can't compare to the radiance of your smile." I melted like hot fudge inside. "You're a romantic, Remus Lupin." Kissing him for being such a sweetie, I sighed happily and Flooed home.

The following week should've passed like a pleasant dream. Remus came over to go running and have breakfast with me before work each morning, and every evening we spent time together, even if it was just a walk in the park or a cuddle on a lounger under the stars.

Work, although October received twice the reports of suspected Dark wizardry as others, went smoothly. I got loaned out to Misuse of Muggle Artefacts again. Gulch was wicked about holding grudges. It was no punishment, because I thoroughly enjoyed the time spent assisting Arthur Weasley. He was like a big kid when it came to Muggle stuff. I brought him to Gran's for elevenses, and he didn't stop grinning for the rest of the day.

The only cloud in my otherwise blue sky was Remus's health. Even though he exhibited no shortness of breath on our runs, or any other physical symptoms, his face showed that all was not well. I deliberately kissed him goodbye early every night so he could rest, but he still looked tired in the morning. The lines on his face seemed to deepen. Sometimes the look in his eyes was so far away it frightened me.

Two afternoons before the full moon, I skived off the job early and went to visit my parents. Dad wasn't home yet, but Mum answered the door with a cool smile. "A visit from my only child. I'm honoured."

I had to admire my mother's flair for guilt trips. She made me feel like one of those rotten kids who only wrote at Christmas and didn't come round unless they needed money. I smiled ruefully and kissed her cheek. "Hello, Mum."

"Hello, darling, come have a cup of tea and tell me what you've been up to," she said with an arched brow.

The Blacks, in general, really had a way with eyebrows. I didn't think I'd ever seen a family who used theirs to a more devastating effect. Then again, Professor Snape had never displayed a family photo on his desk. My mother's implied that she knew what I'd been up to, and she was waiting to hear an apology and an offer to rectify the situation. Both my brows rose in unconvincing innocence. After being watched like a hawk while she conjured tea, I caved to her silent treatment.

"Fine. I brought Remus to meet Gran. They got on famously, and if you like I'll bring him over so you and Dad can meet him too," I said, exhaling heavily in the way only aggrieved daughters can.

She smiled like a cat. "I'll make dinner."

The date she proposed was the day after the full moon, which was fine by me. I warned her I'd have to clear it with Remus first. Mum agreed with another feline smile. After sipping tea and chatting about this and that, I asked, "Say…could I borrow Dad's record player and a few 45's?"

"Could?"

There went those aristocratic brows again. I sighed again. "May I borrow Dad's record player?"

Rising to carry her cup to the sink, Mum nodded graciously. "You may."

In the lounge, she removed the enchanted player from a cabinet while I rummaged through the record collection. I loved the round vinyl discs. They weren't the best Frisbees though: too breakable. I picked out a dozen different singles as Dad called them. I imagined swaying with Remus on the rooftop with faery lights glimmering softly around us and the moon overhead like a big pizza pie.

" _That's Amore?"_

I closed my eyes in chagrin over humming the tune. "Yeah, I love that song."

"What about the man you were thinking about?" my mother asked softly, searching my face.

Looking away, I confessed, "I care about him a lot, but it's hard to trust my feelings after…you know."

She smoothed my spiky pink hair. "Don't worry. If this Remus is the right man, things will work out."

Our slight smiles widened when we heard the front door open and close. Dad strode into the lounge, tossing off a cap. "Hullo, beautiful wife." He leaned her back over his arm in a dramatic gesture and kissed her thoroughly before turning to me. "Hullo, stranger, give the old man a hug."

I returned his bear hug. "Hullo, Dad, how are you? How's business?"

"I'd be better if you'd haul your boyfriend over for your Mum to have a gander. I don't mind being nibbled, but hen-pecked is another story. As for business, it's booming, luv." He went on to share about a new block of flats his company was currently working on. My parents were having dinner early, since Mum had a mah-jongg group coming over. Dad ordered me to stay and tell them about my job and “the mystery bloke you're going with.”

While enjoying lemon chicken, I regaled them with my tube station bust, and then casually slipped in that Remus currently translated and authenticated Latin texts for a living, was a bit older than me, and was the most decent, kind, smartest, handsomest, most wonderful guy I'd ever gone with. I saw them share an amused look like they were mentally counting my past relationships on one hand and wiggling the fingers left over.

"How much older?" my mother asked.

I admitted, "He's . . . mid-thirties."

They stared. I resisted the urge to fidget or squirm while praying they didn't ask where we'd met. I didn't think “I picked him up in a pub” would go over well. Thankfully, they didn't mention the age difference or pry further. We finished the meal in peace. As I was preparing to Floo home with an enormous container of leftovers, because Apparating gave food a bad aftertaste, Mum said, "You haven’t mentioned Remus's last name. He does have one?"

I smirked. "It's Lupin. Remus John Lupin if you want his full name. Satisfied?"

Her dark gaze met my father's in that wordless communication thing parents do. She asked me, "Darling, did Mr. Lupin ever…teach?"

I nodded. "Yeah, Remus said he'd taught before, I don't know what exactly, as well as having done research and several other jobs."

After nodding, she remarked out of the blue, "You don't read the  _Daily Prophets_  we send, do you?"

My face began to grow hot. "Well, erm, really…" I confessed, "I donate them."

Kissing my cheek, Mum said, "That's all right, dear. Tell Mr. Lupin we look forward to meeting him."

I was still puzzled over the grim tone in my mother's voice when I stepped out of the fireplace and into my flat. Placing my rucksack with the player and 45's on the floor, I crossed to the man reading a book on the sofa. "Wotcher, Remus. Am I late?"

He set aside the book and pulled me onto his lap. "No, I'm just fond of reading on your sofa with my legs stretched out." Even though he looked tired, a wolfish smile flashed. "That's not all I'm fond of doing on your sofa." His mouth melded to mine, and all thoughts except how scrummy his lips were vanished.

"Ow!"

Crap! I'd gone to twine my arms around him, forgetting that I held a wizardware container of leftovers in my hand! "Are you OK? Your poor head, is there a bump?"

"I'm fine." He grinned. "What did you assault me with?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Your dinner. Do you like lemon chicken?"

Remus loved it. I watched him devour the food and felt reassured. He couldn't be too ill and eat like that. I brought up Mum's dinner invitation.

"That's not a good day for me." His eyes weren't meeting mine.

"Why not?"

"I'll be out of town. Actually, I leave the day before."

Unable to believe what I heard, I sputtered, "But I borrowed my Dad's record player. I wanted to dance with you in the moonlight, like in one of those old songs. Now you're telling me I'll be doing the first half of  _Blue Moon?_ Standing alone? _"_ He looked at me with sad eyes. I said, "I'll go with you. I've never taken a sickie before. I'm due for one, right?"

"That's not possible," he replied gently, but firmly.

"Is there someone else?" I asked, pushing to my feet and going to stare blindly out the window. If he said yes, I was going to throw myself out. I'd accidentally fallen out of a window when I was little, and I'd bounced, so I wasn't suicidal, just dramatic.

His arms encircled me. "No, Nymphadora, there's no one else. I told you I don't go for casual encounters or infidelity, and I meant it. Until you throw me over, I'm yours."

Turning in his arms, my smile was wobbly. "Watch what you promise, mister, because I don't plan on letting you go. I'm just disappointed because I'd built up this romantic fantasy and . . . I'm sorry, Remus."

He kissed my forehead, and then worked his way down to my lips, brushing butterfly soft kisses across my skin, saying regretfully, "I'm sorry too." Several kisses later, he said, "Why don't we go up and have our dance tonight?"

I smiled.

The moon was almost full, and I said softly while we swayed together, "You probably think I've got some moon fetish, but it's just that, since Dad's into Astronomy, and I grew up watching Mum and Dad dance  _By the Light of the Silvery Moon. . . ._ " His understanding smile gave me the courage to say simply, "I wanted to share that with you."

"I regret not being able to be with you more than you'll ever know."

Remus's bittersweet smile tugged at my heart. He didn't want to leave, so I'd stop making him feel bad about it. "It's a  _Fantabulous Night for a Moondance."_  I smiled up at him.

His arms tightened around me and his answering smile and hungry kisses made me quit crying for the moon and make the most of what I had, which was a lot.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does everybody in her life know about Remus's “furry little problem” except Tonks? Seems like it! If you've been wondering when her eyes would be opened, well, the next chapter is the Full Moon…


	11. Full Moon Rising

 

Muggle scientists have done numerous studies disproving the idea that the full moon has an effect on human behaviour. The Ministry wouldn't waste the Galleons. The moon's influence has never been a matter of tidal pull. It's magic. Increase in crimes of passion, suicide, unexpected births, and other strange phenomena were only myths to the Muggle world. It was a fact of life in mine.

October's moon was already casting its pale shadow over the various Department of Magical Law Enforcement Offices. Owls were constantly delivering new reports of suspected use of Dark magic, and the patrol squad had officers on call in anticipation of a rise in all manner of crimes.

"Are you going to moon about all day?"

Julia received a dirty look for her insensitive question. Earlier that morning, I'd made the mistake of confiding to her about my disappointment over Remus being out of town. Now I bitterly regretted it. Finishing the report on the suspected Dark wizard who had turned out to be a Squib with a love of Muggle magic tricks, I tossed it into the air and sent it winging to Gulch's inbox. Spitefully, I hoped it was as overflowing as Arthur Weasley's filing cabinets. I smirked at the blonde sitting with correct posture in the cubicle's lone visitor's chair. "Look who's talking, Miss ‘I wonder how Tom's day is going?’.”

She grinned. "It's not moonshine to care about someone."

I groaned. "If you make one more moon reference." I shook my fist. "To the moon, Alice!"

"Who's Alice?"

Banging my head against the desk didn't hurt because it was so well padded with files and paperwork. I finished venting my frustration and said, "It's a famous line from an old Muggle television show. You don't have a Muggle Gran, so you wouldn't know." I sighed and admitted, "I've got a thin skin today, and the jokes don't help, mate."

"Sorry."

I shrugged off my bad humour. "Hey, I dish it out, I can take it." A popping sound was heard before a parchment materialized into my inbox. Bollocks. Gulch had sent us a new case to investigate  _immediately,_  thanks to her no-good-work-goes-unpunished mentality. Julia scanned the report that had been filed and red flagged.

"This is strange, even for a full moon. Wizard reported not to have left the house in days. According to the neighbours, eerie noises have been heard. They're afraid the suspect is using Dark magic on his partner, who seems afraid and unwilling to talk." A pale brow arched. "She doesn't want to share her personal business with nosy neighbours, so they think she's under an  _Imperious_  or coercion spell? Sounds more like possible wife-battering or another false report."

I stood and put on my robes, assuming a serious mien. "Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and try."

"Isn't that do and  _die_?" Julia said as we hiked toward the exit and a Floo.

"Uh uh, I've got too much to live for." She saw Tom strolling toward us and agreed with a sigh. Grabbing Julia's arm to prevent her from following Fenton into a cubicle and ruining our chances of finishing the investigation before lunch, I said bracingly, "Duty before pleasure, Auror Clearwater." She threw me a black look that brightened my smile. Misery did love company.

The address of the suspected Dark wizard was a rundown block of flats near Knockturn Alley. We knocked on the door of the neighbour who had filed the report, flashed Auror badges and were invited inside.

"My husband and I are quite concerned." The witch's wispy voice matched her short white hair. I was reminded of a dandelion puff. She insisted on making a pot of tea while Julia and I sat on a settee that looked Victorian but felt more like vinyl than velvet.

My partner noticed my expression and whispered, "Furniture Guard Charm. Puts an invisible barrier over the upholstery."

I made a face. "It may look good, but it's uncomfortable as Hades to sit on. I feel like I'm going to slip off!"

Our witness and now hostess returned rolling an old fashioned tea cart. I accepted a delicate china cup and a biscuit with a smile after surreptitiously using my wand to employ a detection spell. Sometimes the persons who reported a possible crime were the ones who perpetrated them. They wanted the attention. In addition, I'd seen too many mystery programmes with Gran to trust Mrs. Underhill merely because she looked a nice old lady. Nothing in the food or drink was harmful, though, so I ate my ginger nut biscuit and listened to Julia lead the witness through the standard routine of questions.

Mr. and Mrs. Dunne had only resided next door for a couple of months. During that time, the Underhills had become increasingly concerned over the combination of the newcomers' extreme secretiveness and the ominous sounds heard from the adjoining flat during the full moon. Thanking the woman for the tea and her time, Julia and I headed over to have a talk with the neighbours.

A woman’s pale face gazed at us through a narrow crack of open door. “May I help you?” she asked warily.

I said, "Mrs. Jenny Dunne?"

"Yes."

"I'm Auror Tonks, and this is Auror Clearwater. We'd like to come in and ask you a few questions."

Jenny Dunne stood back to allow us entry. "All right, but we have to keep quiet. My husband hasn't been well, and he's sleeping."

Julia and I exchanged glances. That could mean anything, and we'd keep our wands at hand. Inside the small, almost bare flat, a lone illumination orb dimly lit the space. I said with deliberate cheer, "My uncle's hobby is finding ways of keeping the illumination company from growing rich at his expense. He uses this charm all the time.  _Illustrare!"_

The orb instantly brightened. I saw Jenny mouth the spell for future use. There were two comfortable reading chairs with ottomans and a large, ornate mahogany bookcase in the lounge. The furniture was a striking contrast to the bare walls and dingy carpet. I went and peered at the titles on the shelves to distract the woman. She acted increasingly nervous. "Someone likes Science Fiction," I said, pointing to a shelf.

Perched on the edge of a chair, the witch smiled fleetingly. "My husband is from a non-Wizarding family. Even after receiving his letter from Hogwarts, David loved to read about distant worlds as well as this one."

I pulled out a book of short stories. "I haven't read that much, but one story by this author, Larry Niven, really made an impression on me." Opening the tome, I pointed to the table of contents. " _Inconstant Moon._ It's about a bloke who notices the moon is unusually bright, figures it's a solar flare that's going to wipe out all life, and how he spends what he thinks is his last night. Ever read it?"

Bitter laughter drifted to us from the entrance to the bedroom. I turned, palming my wand in a concealed pocket, to see an unshaven, peaky looking man leaning against the doorframe. "Read it?” he asked gruffly. “Hell, Auror, I live it."

I flashed a glance at Julia. She nodded slightly to encourage me to begin a dialogue with the suspect. I asked, "How's that?"

He didn't answer, saying instead, "Nosy biddy next door said I was a Dark wizard, I expect. Well, wave your wand, check the place all you like, but you'll find it's not true." His voice roughened. "I'm something, all right, but that's not it."

Julia was already engaging the standard detection charms. I nodded to the wizard. "Mind if I take a look round the bedroom?"

Lank brown hair shook. "Go ahead." He let me pass and followed me into the room.

After brightening the orb that rested on a stack of books on the floor beside a mattress set, I noticed that the duvet on the bed, like the furniture in the lounge, was surprisingly fine. Aside from a small wardrobe, nothing was in the bedroom except a curious pile of objects within a large circle that had been drawn on the floorboards in chalk. I recognized wizard restraints and bent to pick them up along with another item. “What are you doing with restraints and a muzzle?" I pointed my wand, ready to use it. There were no traces of Dark magic, but plenty of blokes were sick bastards without it.

David smiled bitterly. "I told you, I'm not a Dark wizard, but I'm something almost as frightening. I'm a werewolf." His eyes went to the window. "Sunset to sunrise, those items and that containment circle are the only things stopping me from tearing somebody's throat out."

I stared. "What about Wolfsbane Potion?"

He turned and walked into the other room, where he said to his wife, "I can't tell the story one more time. You do it."

Jenny stood and gave him her seat. While he slumped in the chair looking ill and wretched, she sat on the ottoman. In a monotone that spoke volumes, she said, "Three months ago, we ran a little shop not too far from Diagon Alley. Used books, not a lot of Galleons in that, but enough to get by. David went camping with a mate one weekend. They were attacked. Griffin didn't make it, and my husband became a werewolf the next full moon. Werewolf Support Services told us his name was automatically added to the queue, but it could be months or even years before he's on the Ministry Wolfsbane programme." She looked from Julia to me dully. "Do you how expensive Wolfsbane is on the open market? We lost our shop. David can't find work. While I clear enough for this place and food, it's not enough to make his life more bearable."

"The neighbours think I use Dark magic.” David smiled bitterly. “If it would help, I'd be tempted.”

The grimness of his tone worried me. I wondered how the Ministry could be so blind. If they didn't assist werewolves and Dark wizards did. The thought was too horrible to contemplate. I asked, "There's no other help available?"

"Not that I've found." David seemed to have abandoned hope.

Julia said, "We regret adding to your pain, Mr. Dunne. Hopefully, our report will prevent similar questioning in the future."

"But you can't promise," he said heavily.

"No, we can't promise.” Julia glanced around and asked, "Did you consider employing sound-proofing spells?"

Jenny answered, "The only one that's completely effective takes the power of three to accomplish, and we don't have friends anymore, I'm afraid."

Julia looked at me. I nodded. She smiled. "You do now."

I was still blinking madly over how grateful the Dunnes were that we'd given them a bit of help when we left the building. Julia bumped my shoulder with hers and said with a smirk, "We were shooting for the moon with that spell back there."

I gave a watery laugh. "I'm over the moon that it went so smoothly. The Underhills won't know what to do with themselves without their neighbour’s  _sounds_ for entertainment."

"There's always the flat on the other side to listen in on."

We had a bit of a giggle over the thought of the old couple with their ears pressed against the wall. I perked up when Julia offered to buy lunch. It was lovely to have posh mates. The restaurant she chose made me glad official black robes hid my embellished denims and the dark rose and pink tunic. Otherwise, my clothes would've been out of place amongst the classic, tailored apparel of the Ministry officials and businesspeople who patronized the establishment.

The server said, "I love your pink hair."

I smiled ruefully at Julia when he'd left. "Why didn't you remind me to change it?"

"I like that colour . Brings out the roses in your cheeks."

We snickered and enjoyed our lunch. After Julia handed payment to the server, she confessed a need to visit the lavatory. I stayed put to finish my coffee. A feeling of déjà vu swept over me when Evan slid onto the vacated bench. "Hello, Nymphadora, my dear. Being treated to lunch again?"

"I'm not your dear, yeah, and I still won't work for you.”

His eyes drifted down to my mouth. "Pity." He held up an envelope. "I've just had lunch with an associate of mine. Crowley accompanied his son to a local park a week ago, and while taking pictures, saw a girl that caught his eye. He recognised her and took a photograph to show me what my ex-fiancée's been up to." Evan handed me the photo with a mocking smile. "I must say, I was shocked."

I fought not to blush as I viewed the wizard photography which showed me playfully pushing Remus onto a bench and straddling his lap to snog him. All colour drained away when Evan said, "I could tolerate being replaced by someone old and poor, but Merlin, darling, did you have to embarrass me and yourself by choosing a werewolf?" His expression sharpened. "You do  _know_  that your new lover is a werewolf, don't you?"

My mind was reeling. A werewolf? Remus?

Seeing my involuntary head shake, Evan said, "Oh yes, Remus J. Lupin, former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, ironically is indeed a werewolf. If you'd read the  _Daily Prophet_  anytime over the last year, you'd have known." He chuckled darkly. "I wonder how he taught the children to recognise a werewolf. Drew his picture on the blackboard?"

I shook my head again.

He placed a scroll on the table. "Crowley remembered you fondly. It seems you always recalled his child's name, which Priscilla never has, I'm sure. Since he couldn't believe you'd knowingly consort with someone who's no better than a beast, really, Crowley obligingly went by the Magical Beings office. He procured an official copy of the Werewolf Registry, asking me to send it to you." His lips curved. "When I saw you sitting here, I said I'd be more than happy to  _give_  it to you."

Swallowing hard, I unrolled the parchment and scanned down the list until I found Lupin, Remus J. I tossed it back to him. “Tell Crowley I hope Michael is doing well, but my private life is none of his, or  _anyone else's_  concern."

Evan murmured, "I will." He tapped the photo with a manicured finger. "I must say, I found this picture  _very_  interesting." I shrugged. He lifted a golden eyebrow. "It reminded me of another couple I'd seen in this exact same position recently."

My lip curled. "I knew you were twisted, but voyeurism is a new low.”

He said, "Priscilla told me after the party that she'd overheard Elspeth Travers begging to borrow perfume. She found it in poor taste, but I found it  _enlightening."_

I tore the photograph into shreds while rising. "I don't know what you're blathering on about, but you did what you came over here to do, so go away." I threw the pieces at him and stepped toward the ladies’ lavatory.

He stood and clasped my wrist with an implacable grip. "What are you and your werewolf up to, Nymphadora? Is he your lover?"

"None of your business to both questions," I snapped, yanking my arm away.

His pleased smile reminded me that the devil had been an angel of light. "As I told you before, I'll enjoy finding out. But he's not your lover, or you would've thrown it in my face like those scraps of paper." With arrogant satisfaction, the prat said, "I'm still your one and only."

I left him without dignifying that remark. His wicked laughter followed me into the lavatory where Julia was chatting with the house-elf handing out towels and assisting with Cosmetic Charms. I asked the house-elf, "Do you know a Cleansing Charm that will remove all traces of scent?" She nodded eagerly. Afterwards, I tipped generously.

Julia asked as we left the restaurant, "What was all that about?"

Averting my eyes from the diners, I said, "Evan dropped by the table when you left. His touch made me feel dirty, that's all." My closed expression kept my friend from asking more questions. We returned to the Ministry. When Tom suggested trading partners for the afternoon, I agreed. I didn't want to have to tell my best mate to leave off if she started to pry. The rest of the day found me trailing after my new partner, Simon, and letting him interview the witnesses while I recorded the conversations. The two cases we investigated turned up nothing. I didn't care, because my head was trying to get around the fact that I hadn't added up all the clues that Remus was a werewolf.

The health problem that seemed to worsen as the full moon neared and went into remission as it waned. His hyper-acute senses, the continued strength and appetite even while looking tired and ill, and even his ironic, bloody name. I realised that Jan, my parents, hell, everybody in the Underground and maybe at the Blue Moon, too, knew that he was a werewolf, while I'd been oblivious. _L'amour est aveugle; l'amiteie ferme les yeux._  I'd been blind, and my friends had closed their eyes.

By the end of the day, I was furious with myself and angry at Remus too. Did he believe I'd reject him, think I'd become a werewolf by kissing him or something equally stupid? I had to know, but he was out of town…or was he?

Wanting to make it to Remus's before the sun went down, I skived off work early. I Flooed into his lounge, grateful that he hadn't warded it against me after I'd been caught snooping. It was kind of funny how he trusted me with his stuff, but not his secrets. My stomach roiled. I ran into the loo, but didn't toss my biscuits. Since I was there, I decided it was a good idea to ensure my bladder was empty before I tested my theory about the invisible door handle. After washing my hands, I told my reflection, "What are you waiting for? Do it!"

The handle turned easily. Heart pounding, I pushed open the unseen door enough to squeeze through and enter the room.

"Tonks, get out of here." The low, hoarse voice was Remus's. He was sitting on the floor against the side wall, head in his hands, elbows braced on upraised knees.

I pushed the door shut with a defiant snap. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up and agreed wryly, "No, you're not. That door's charmed only to open from the outside from sunset to sunrise on the full moon, and the sun…just…set."

I glanced up at the small, square window high in the brick back wall. "How do you know? It's boarded over. You can't see that."

He rose in a fluid motion that made my eyes widen. "I don't have to see the sunset. I can feel it, like I feel the moon rising, waiting…calling me." The look in his eyes was hungry, primal.

To say that I felt the animal magnetism Remus exuded as he prowled toward me was putting it delicately. When he came within reach, I slapped him. "How dare you lie to me about who you are?"

He inhaled deeply before smiling wolfishly. I threw my arms around his neck while he pushed me back against the hidden door. The heat of his gaze and body made the breath caught in the back of my throat release in a sound of need. Remus's mouth settled hungrily over mine. I pressed harder against him, burying my fingers in his hair, never wanting this feeling to end.

We kissed ravenously.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> David Naughton, Jenny Agutter, and Griffin Dunne are the actors who played lead roles in the classic film An American Werewolf in London. I used their first names (and gave the fictional David and Jenny Griffin's last name) to pay homage. I had fun making the catchphrase "Beware the moon" mean for Tonks "you'll get kissed ravenously by Remus." :)


	12. Hunter's Moon

 

There wasn't much to say about animal passion. I was too busy experiencing it. The moment I'd thrown my arms around Remus's neck and he'd begun ravishing my mouth, my higher brain function pretty much went on automatic. If asked to describe the sensations flooding through me as his body pinned mine against the wall while he attempted to devour me with kisses, I wouldn't have been able to do more than moan—or whimper.

Beneath my fingertips, his hair felt even more silken than normal. He held my face in his hands as our kiss became increasingly sensual. Caught up in the taste, feel and scent of his skin and the pressure of his lips and body, I barely noticed when my robes were unfastened.

Remus began kissing my throat, informing me in a playfully professorial tone, "A wolf can keep up a pursuit for hours."

I shivered.

He chuckled and whispered hotly in my ear, "When the prey is cornered, the attack is always from the front."

I felt the gentle sucking low on my neck and gasped. "Are you giving me a love bite?"

"Yes. I'll keep it small. Private."

Oh gods, that was so bizarrely sexy. My head lolled to the side while I sagged against him, letting his body support me. I sighed. His lips returned to plundering mine. The bold sweep of his tongue created the sweetest ache. His hands glided down to stroke my abdomen before caressing upwards. My breath hitched. I couldn't take any more stimulation. "Remus, no."

He exhaled sharply and stepped away, looking up at the faint glow of moonlight seeping through the boarded up window high above as he raked his hair back with his fingers. "I never want you to feel pressured to do anything."

"I don't. It's not that I don't want you." His eyes and smile gleamed. I tried not to think about his acute senses and attempted to explain, "I'm just—" Aw, crap, I was no good at this kind of thing.

Remus reached out and cupped my cheek with his palm. "You're not ready, you're not into casual encounters and you want love to be an emotional as well as physical commitment, is that it?"

I nodded.

He smiled. "We have a lot in common."

For the second time that evening, I threw myself at him, this time hugging him tight. "I don't care that you're a werewolf, I only care about being with you." I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to cry. He caressed my hair and apologised for not telling me sooner, for selfishly wanting me to know the man before the werewolf.

After I controlled my emotions, I sniffed and asked, "Why aren't you a wolf right now?"

His lips tilted at the corners. "Wolfsbane Potion. When I taught at Hogwarts, Snape brewed it for me. Afterwards, because I resigned my position at the school voluntarily, the Ministry put me on the Werewolf Services programme." Wryly, he added, "I'd only been waiting since the announcement of Wolfsbane subsidising." Remus said earnestly, "Wolfsbane does more than allow the werewolf to retain mental faculties after transformation. The potion also impedes the change, allowing me to remain human for quite some time."

I glanced up at the dim, pale light that didn't filter down to the lower levels of the room. "Why do you even have to change?"

His eyes took on a faraway look I'd seen before. "When the moon calls, her children must answer. Away from direct moonlight I can put off transformation, but eventually the need becomes too great, and I run with the moon, so to speak."

"Does it hurt?"

Remus huffed in dark amusement. "Not compared to becoming a werewolf." He took my hands in his. "Under the influence of Wolfsbane Potion, becoming a wolf is similar to the transformation of an Animagus." His brow creased in pained remembrance. "It's the agony of losing your mind, of becoming an animal with no conscience, no thought beyond hunting and satisfying primitive needs, that makes transformations so terrible." Remus's tone and gaze became distant again. "Most werewolves fight the change with every fibre in their shaking bodies, even knowing that in the end, they'll lose."

I hugged him again, trying not to cry. I looked around the bare space. Taking off my robes, I transfigured them into a futon mattress. If I was going to spend the night, I was going to be comfortable. I sat Indian style and patted the black pad. "Have a seat." He hesitated. I asked, "Is something wrong? Do you need to change?"

Remus shook his head. "Not yet." Once seated close by, he admitted, "I may have control of basic instincts, but this situation is very  _tempting_."

"Oh." The predatory way he smiled was making my pulse leap. Saying the first thing that came to mind, I asked, "What's it like, running with the moon?"

His lips curved further at my breathy question and my avoidance of discussing temptation. "When I wasn't on Wolfsbane, I was locked up to prevent harm to others." His expression became solemn. "The next day, I would awaken with the vague memory of rage against captivity." Remus's tone lightened when he shared, "My schooldays at Hogwarts changed that. Dumbledore allowed me to transform in the Shrieking Shack, and my friends would stay with me until the moon was no longer full. With them, my mind wasn't as wolfish, but I remember the longing to run beneath a moon breathtakingly cold and bright, howling with savage joy." My wide eyes asked a question that he answered with a chuckle. "Yes, that's how the shack got its haunted reputation. James Potter, Sirius Black, and . . . Peter Pettigrew were my friends. They were Animagi. James was a stag, Peter a rat, and Sirius—"

"Sirius was a dog," I said in a tone of discovery. "A big black dog would wander into the back garden and play with me when I was young, but I never connected his visits with my cousin's." Laughingly, I confessed, "I used to get so mad at Mum for saying that I couldn't keep him." I broke off, burying my face in my hands.

Remus asked, "What's wrong?"

I groaned without looking up. "I just remembered. Once, I told Grim—don't laugh, he did resemble one. Anyways, after petting him and hugging him, I wailed that my jealous witch of a mother wouldn't let me keep him 'cause she knew I loved him more!" Hearing his bark of laughter, I reluctantly smiled. "Yeah, that's what he did too. Mum was in a snit for weeks. I bet he told her, the rat."

"No, the rat was Peter in more ways than one."

Remus explained how Pettigrew had betrayed the Potters, framed Sirius for his supposed death, and how they had discovered that Peter was still alive. I protested when he revealed that the bastard had escaped justice. Smiling over my vow to help track him down, he shook his head and changed the subject.

In a wistful tone, Remus shared that although he was supposed to stay in the shack the friends had betrayed Dumbledore's trust and roamed the forest instead. Although their presence kept the wolf calm, he had regretted taking those reckless chances in the years since. What Remus missed most about those Hogwarts days wasn't the adventures. It was the companionship. He'd been grateful for friends that became Animagi to keep him from feeling so isolated and lonely. I said, "You're not alone anymore. You have me."

His smile tugged at my heart even while his kisses pulled at inhibitions. Within minutes, I was flat on my back gazing up into hungry eyes. He looked satisfied with creating an equal hunger in me. I ran my fingertips over the shadowed planes of his face. "I think you're getting hairier."

"I can't put off the change anymore." Remus's smile was regretful.

I asked, "Do you mind if I watch? It's not gory like a Muggle film or anything, is it?"

"No, I don't mind, and to what film are you referring?  _An American Werewolf in London_?" He grinned boyishly when I nodded. "Not at all—it's magic, not special effects." Crossing to the other side of the room, he looked up and said ruefully, "Beware the moon." His tone changed, became contemplative, almost dreamy. "I'm nearly there…in the moonlight…running…."

It was very like watching my metamorphosing. Remus, the man, shifted and reformed. His head and body lengthened while his shoulders hunched and his hands curled. Hair sprouted all over. Within moments, a wolf stood in the wizard's place. I sat captivated, staring into eyes that looked much the same as they had when he was human. Maybe it was the pupils. The grey wolf's snout and tufted tail distinguished him from a normal wolf. I thought it was interesting that wolf or man, he had a lean, muscular build and long legs.

We stared at one another until I held out a hand. He dropped down and began scooting forward. I shook my head. "I'm not afraid, you don't have to grovel or do any of that wolf submissive stuff for me." His snout rose. Remus yipped. I smiled. "If you're asking if I want you to come over here, please do." When he came close, I patted the mattress. "Have a seat." He panted like he was laughing. I reached out and tentatively stroked his fur. It was coarse, yet soft. Amber eyes regarded me steadily as I petted him with more confidence. Finally bold enough to stroke his head, I looked into his eyes and sighed. "You're beautiful."

He licked my lips. I drew back. "Remus!" He was panting again, his naughty tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. I said, "Cheek only, please, when you're in this form." The wolf took that as an invitation and laved my face with a lick, lick, nibble, lick pattern of wolfish affection. After that, he rubbed the side of his muzzle against my cheek. I slipped an arm around him, saying in relief, "At least you don't have dog-breath like Sirius did."

More panting/laughter ensued.

We sat in companionable silence until the room became dim. Remus didn't need any light, but I said ' _Lumos_ ' so I could see him. "Your eyes shine. Cool."

My boyfriend/wolf stood and did something I would've freaked over if I hadn't watched nature programmes with Gran. He took the equivalent of my muzzle in his jaws. It was a gesture of affection and friendly dominance. Lasting only a few seconds, it didn't harm me in any way. I'd seen a wolf raised by humans do that to the woman who had explained that wolves were very loyal, intelligent, social and playful. Merlin, that sounded like a description of Remus!

"Showing me you're still the man, huh?" He pressed his cheek against the side of my face. I smiled and adopted my own professorial tone. "Did you know that a wolf's jaws exert twice the pressure of a German Shepard's?" My wolf growled a bit. I laughed. "Hey, you don't have to be a Ravenclaw to have a brain full of trivia."

I stretched out on my side, propping my head with my hand. Remus stretched out beside me. I asked him, "Want to hear a few moon facts? You're not growling, so that must mean yes." Like a professor warming to her subject, I said, "OK, I learnt that Muggle scientists are totally hung up on the fact that the moon only measurably affects unbounded bodies of water. Since the human body is bounded, obviously, they dismiss anything that doesn't fit their science as superstition, communal reinforcement or my favourite—sympathetic magic."

He didn't blink.

I grinned. "How nice to have you riveted to my every word." His tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth again. My eyes narrowed. "You're not  _threatening_  me, are you?" He blinked. I stared. "Did you just wink at me?"

His muzzle dipped up and down.

My jaw dropped. "Stars and stones, why didn't I realise that if you keep your human mind you can communicate?" A sudden thought compelled me to ask, "Am I boring you, blathering on?"

His muzzle moved side to side.

I grinned. "Thanks." Impulsively, I kissed his snout before pulling back and wiping a couple of hairs off my lips. "No offence, but I prefer to kiss your human face."

Remus rose abruptly and went to stand beneath the high window. He looked like something out of a painting, or a dream, standing head upraised, listening to sounds my ears couldn't hear. I sat up and hugged my knees, entranced.

He howled. It wasn't deep and guttural, like the ones I'd heard wolves use to reassemble a pack. I thought it must be a social howl, maybe in response to an unknown wolf—or werewolf. Thinking of David and Jenny Dunne, I was glad that the other man was in a soundproof room, contained in a magic circle, and restrained. I wondered if there were other werewolves prowling the city that night. I shuddered, devoutly hoping not.

Eventually, the howl rose and fell with a long slide at the end. I remembered that howl from the nature programme. It was the howl of a wolf calling for a mate. There was a primeval beauty to it, a longing that resonated in my soul. I reached out to him. "Remus."

He stopped howling and turned to watch me, silent and still before padding over. In a strange, unspoken accord, we lay side by side once more. I whispered, "I forgot to transfigure a pillow, so do you mind?" I would've sworn on the Philosopher's Stone that his eyes glinted with amusement before doing that blink/wink thing. I smiled. "I'd kiss you, but you're a bit too hairy, so I'll just say thanks."

Curled up with a wolf pelt for a pillow, I didn't think I'd be able to rest, so I started talking. "Did you know that no two wolves howl on the exact same note? They harmonise, but if two wolves begin to howl the same, one will change pitch."

He growled.

I muttered, "All right, I get it, no more trivia." After several moments of silence, I rubbed my cheek against his fur and said quietly, "Goodnight, Remus." I could hear his heart beating. It seemed fast, but soothing. I thought I'd be listening to the sound all night, but I fell asleep immediately, only opening my eyes when gentle fingers sifted through my hair.

"Good morning."

I was lying in the crook of Remus’s arm. I hoped I hadn't put his arm to sleep, but I'd bet that I had. Smiling sleepily and about to greet him in return, I was dismayed to remember that I hadn't used a brushing/flossing mint last night. Not about to treat him to morning breath, I rolled away, off the mattress, onto the floor, and sat up to dig through my denim pockets for the mints I'd stashed.

"Nymphadora, what in the blazes are you  _doing?"_ Remus, looking tired and wan, was gorgeous to me as he laughed softly at my antics.

I threw him a mint. "Saving you from dragon breath." I chewed on my mint, feeling the icky-ness of my mouth being replaced with minty freshness. Magic was such a lovely thing. Pushing myself up, I walked back over and dropped to my knees. He rose to his. Returning his wide smile, I asked, "Where were we? Oh yeah. Good morning," and kissed him.

His lips were surrounded by stubble, but they were human, and that was good enough for me. I stroked his cheek while trying to show him through my kiss how much I cared about him. I couldn't say nothing had changed in our relationship. It had. I'd made a decision to be with Remus no matter what. After last night, I felt closer to him than I'd ever felt to Evan. I'd take a werewolf with a beautiful soul over a wizard with a Dark one, and count myself lucky that the man I was crazy about cared about me too.

After another kiss, he looked down at me and smiled tenderly. "I had a dream that you found out I was a werewolf, and you stayed in my arms anyway." He pressed whisper-soft kisses across my skin before kissing me ardently. Remus held me close. "How did you find out? I figured someone you know must've told you, but I forgot to ask who."

My stomach dropped. I took a deep breath and said quickly, "Julia treated me to lunch. When she went to the loo, Evan dropped by the table to show me a photo an associate had taken at the park. He was upset to be replaced by a werewolf."

Remus’s harsh expression softened beneath my apprehensive gaze. "He did me a favour by telling you, actually. I'm glad Rosier knows he's been replaced." With a roguish grin, he asked, "What was the picture of?"

I opened my mouth and promptly closed it. Shaking my head, I pressed my lips together for a moment before being able to say with a straight face, "Sit and I'll show you." Within moments, I was straddling his lap and kissing him deeply. His hands slid up my back and then down to my backside. I never heard the door open.

"I've made breakfast, old man, if you're up to it." The cheerful voice trailed off into a bark of laughter. "You're up to something, all right. Who's the bird?"

Turning to gape at the face that looked a hell of a lot better than it had on a wanted poster, I said with a wondering smile, "Sirius?"

The man's head tilted as he looked at me more closely. He grinned in recognition before his brow furrowed. Sirius turned to his old friend and growled, " _Tonks?"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used PoA, specifically the conversation in the Shrieking Shack in Ch. 18 and the transformation in 19 as the basis for my depiction of Remus. It’s a toss-up who got the bigger surprise this chapter, Tonks or Sirius.


	13. The Moon and Sirius

 

In Greek, Sirius is _Seirios_ and means burning. Living up to his name, my cousin's grey eyes smouldered as he demanded, "What the ruddy hell were you doing with my little cousin, mate?"

Remus calmly said, "It should've been obvious, but if you want further explanation, we'll give you one over breakfast." He levered himself up and assisted me to my feet. Giving me a mischievous look, he asked, "Would you like to take care of those functions I'm not supposed to think you have before I take a shower?"

I grinned. "Yes, please." I gave him a kiss and then turned and hugged Sirius, reaching up to give the tall man a smacking kiss on the cheek. "It takes two to snog,  _Grim._ Don't give Remus grief about it, or I'll be giving you a welcome home hex." While his jaw dropped, I sashayed out of the room and dashed for the loo. Opening the door a short while later, my guy was waiting patiently, a small pile of clothing in his hands.

He smiled. "If you help Sirius set the table, I'll join you as soon as possible." Chuckling, he stepped forward. "It'll keep your mind off thoughts of functions your mother disapproves of."

When his body brushed mine as he passed, I teased, "She'd disapprove of me thinking about you in the shower even more."

"Merlin knows I do," Sirius muttered from the doorway to the lounge. Leaning against the frame, he pleaded, "Spare my blushes and let our Remus by, Nymph."

I made a face. "Fine, but spare me the nicknames." I followed Sirius into the lounge and saw that he'd added a folding chair to the combined reading/dining nook. Contentedly rummaging through the cupboards in Remus's tiny kitchen for plates and cutlery, I threw my cousin a challenging look and said, "Laying it on a bit thick back there. Since when do you blush?"

The descendants of the so-called Noble and Ancient House of Black were awfully good at aristocratic hauteur. Sirius was no exception. He lifted an imperious brow. "You're the one who should blush, caught in that position. What would your mother say?"

"She knows about Remus and she hasn't said anything, because it's none of her, or your, bloody damned business."

My cheeky smile engendered an appreciative look as I set the table. "Another  _black sheep_ , eh? Andromeda and Ted did a fine job with you." Grinning in a way that lent his lean features a raffish charm, Sirius said, "Speaking of black sheep. How's Cousin Morty these days?"

"Rascally as ever." I told him how one of my uncle's dodgy clients led to meeting Remus.

"My lucky night," Remus said, joining us. Clean and smooth-shaven, wearing an Ireland National Quidditch tee and denims, he looked scrummy.

"Tonks, leave off before you ruin my appetite," Sirius grumbled while Remus pulled out my chair.

I looked at him, mystified. "What?"

Showing no loss of appetite, my cousin grabbed several rashers of bacon off a plate before passing the dish to Remus, demanding, "She eat you up with her eyes like that all the time?"

"Yes." Light brown eyes were amused as Remus calmly offered a platter to his friend. "Eggs?"

"I suppose I could force a few bites down." Sirius served himself half the eggs before spooning some onto my plate, unasked. When I sulked over being treated like a child who could neither answer nor serve herself, he snickered. "I remember that look. You had it when your evil witch of a mother wouldn't let you keep a stray dog."

"She did me a favour. You probably snored and had fleas to go along with the dog-breath."

Sirius sputtered indignantly. "Dog-breath! I might've snored on occasion or had the odd flea, but . . . oh . . . ." Sirius chuckled. "I snitched a chicken leg from the table before trotting out to see you in the back garden once. I might've had dog-breath."

Remus laughed. "Tonks, you should hear about some of the things he used to bring to the Shrieking Shack from Hogsmeade."

I listened to them swap stories, faces alight with boyish glee. When I thought of how life had turned out so differently from the future they must've dreamt about during their schooldays, my eyes misted. I'd had my own personal trials, but they were nothing compared to being a werewolf or spending long years wrongly imprisoned. When the two were through reminiscing, I asked, "Do you know where Pettigrew is hiding, Sirius? Is that why you're here, to clear your name?"

Long black hair shook. "No, that rat's gone down the sewer with the rest of the filth, I'm afraid." The bitterness of his smile lightened when he shook off thoughts of his former friend and said, "I'm here because of Harry."

I figured he meant Harry Potter. Mum and Dad had declared that Sirius would never have allowed evil near his godson, and I believed it. If Sirius had a fault, it was caring too much, not too little. He shook his head in frustration. “I don't like coincidence. If you read the  _Prophet_ , disturbing things are happening that the Ministry is turning a blind eye to. Harry's scar has been hurting. Regardless of what he told me in his last letter, things are not fine. I had to come north."

Remus nodded. "I sent Moody an owl, enquiring subtly about security measures. He said he had things well in hand, and to stop being an old woman."

Sirius's eyes blazed with fervour. "It's not enough to sit around and wait for something bad to happen. I need to be near Harry, close enough to act if necessary." Remus's advice to be patient for just a while longer was met with rolling eyes and a muttered, "Yes, Mum."

"You could always send Harry another letter," I said.

"How about… _Nice try, Harry, I am back in the country and well hidden."_ Sirius smirked at Remus. "Am I well hidden?"

Remus said, "As well as anyone in an abandoned warehouse warded with Aversion Charms and sensor devices can be." He told me, "There's a building a couple of streets away from the Underground's meeting place that was ideal for Sirius and his Hippogriff, Buckbeak, to stay."

I was relieved that my guy wasn't harbouring a fugitive, much less a Hippogriff, in his home. That was splitting hairs, but right now I didn't care about how Shacklebolt or other Aurors would view the aiding and abetting. My gaze drifted over Remus's pale features. The strain of transformation had lined his face with fatigue. I said, "Why don't we clear out of here and let you take a nap?"

"No, no, I'm fine. I promised to thrash Sirius in wizard chess," he replied half-heartedly.

Using the same look my mother used to give Dad's poker mates, I told my dear cousin, "I'll leave you to your game then, after which Remus can get some  _rest_."

Since Remus and I had wands, we cast the spells to clear the table. Sirius said, "You know, there's something I need more than a game of chess, and that's a haircut. If you don't mind, Moony, I'll go along with my little cousin, because if I remember correctly, she's ace at it."

I said pertly, "All those Muggle dolls Gran sent were vastly improved weren't they?"

Remus's eyes were heavy while he smiled. "Come back this afternoon and I'll trounce you then, Padfoot." He blinked sleepily at me when I pulled him up out of the chair and steered him toward the bedroom. "Are you tucking me into bed?" My previously steady blood pressure spiked. His gaze became less sleepy as I nodded, licking suddenly dry lips.

Sirius groaned. "Three minutes, Tonks, you have three minutes to put the big baby to bed before I drag you out forcibly. Remember, our Moony needs his  _rest."_

Dutifully tucking Remus into bed, I kissed his lips softly.

"Am I a big baby for enjoying the way you look after me?" he asked, eyes almost closed.

"No, but you're my baby." I kissed him again, lingeringly, until I heard a bark. A big black dog was standing in the doorway. He barked again.

Remus chuckled . "Snuffles wants to go for a walk." His eyes began to close. I watched his peaceful face until my currently four legged cousin tugged on the wide hem of my denims. I reluctantly went to find something to transfigure into a leash so I could take my new “pet” home for grooming.

 

Back at the Blue Moon, it was early enough for me to enter without seeing anyone. My luck ran out on the first floor landing when Cami wandered out to ask, "Back from your morning…" She saw the dog and exclaimed, "Oh my gods, he's gorgeous, part Newfoundland I'd guess. May I pet him?" In the manner of dog fanciers, the woman dropped to her knees and began cooing and praising and stroking the animal who seemed more than willing to stand there all day and be adored. "What's beautiful here's name?" My previously levelheaded friend gushed, "It's got to be something noble to match his profile and that amazing definition."

"It's Snuffles. I'm watching him for a friend," I answered, smirking as the dog—in every meaning of the word—licked Cami's face. When he licked her lips, I said sternly, "Eeuwww, bad Snuffles, no getting doggie germs on my pal. What would her  _boyfriend_  think if he went to kiss her and smelled dog-breath?"

Cami caused me to say Eeuwww again when she deliberately kissed the soulful-eyed canine on the mouth and said, "I don't have a boyfriend. Jet and I went out, Tonks, but fireworks didn't exactly light the sky when we kissed." She laughed shortly. "He was more interested in explaining in boring detail how he combines martial arts and magic." Looking down at the dog now laying with his head in her lap, she and rubbed his chest. "If only men were like Snuffles here."

"What? Only interested in eating, sleeping, and _playing_?" I groused, giving the leash a sharp tug, ignoring my Animagus cousin's reproachful yelp. He turned a mournful dark gaze on Cami before following me upstairs, dragging his paws all the way.

She called, "If you ever need a dog sitter, let me know."

Snuffles' ears perked. I scowled at him and whispered, "Not a chance, so forget about it," before calling back, "Thanks, I will." Once on the second floor I added, “Not. _"_  I was glad that I couldn't understand dog language, because the growls and other sounds emanating from the canine's throat sounded highly uncomplimentary. Once inside my flat, I took off the leash and commanded, "Stay."

"Very funny." Sirius curled a lip at me when he'd transformed back. We exchanged grins. His widened, as he said, "I like your friend. Cami, is it? She reminds me of a Ravenclaw girl I used to meet behind the statue of Gary the Gorgeous. Or was it a Hufflepuff?" He waved a hand airily. "Doesn't matter. She's fit, likes dogs, has the sense not to expect too much from a man, and uses brushing/flossing mints regularly." Flopping onto my sofa, he put up his feet and asked, "What colour hair and eyes does she have, and d'you think she'd go for dating a fugitive with nothing on offer?"

The mental image was threatening to give me a migraine. "Brown, hazel and no, so don't ask me to set you up." I realised lack of coffee was giving me the headache. I engaged the charm on my enchanted coffee pot and waited impatiently for it to brew.

Behind me, Sirius whined, "Aw, c'mon, love, throw me a bone."

I rolled my eyes at his cheesiness. When I looked at him, he pleaded, "Can she dog sit then? Overnight?" He smiled charmingly. "I'd behave, wouldn't take a peek whilst she was changing, sniff inappropriately or anything." His tone became wistful. "Maybe she'd let me sleep on the bed. It'd be nice to wake up next to something feminine and flowery smelling instead of feathery and ferrety."

"Ferrety?" I asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, ferrets are Buckbeak's favourite snack."

A shudder wiggled down my spine. "That's more information than I wanted to know, Sirius." I poured myself a cup and lifted the pot inquiringly.

"I'd love one. Two sugars, loads of milk." Sirius waggled his eyebrows. "I learnt to drink coffee that way down South."

I brought him a mug and took a seat in the chair. "You look like a different man than the one currently screaming at me from wanted posters."

"Not my most photogenic moment.” We sipped coffee. He said, "Tell me about the family."

A half hour later, I was finishing repeating my vow not to be coerced into a frilly pink bridesmaid gown for Lora's spring wedding. Sirius voiced his sympathy and then said, "I read the back editions of the  _Prophet_  to catch up on everything I'd missed in prison. Your engagement announcement came as an unpleasant surprise."

My smile was tight. "I'll bet."

"I won't say that I wasn't pleased to see the formal retraction."

I shrugged. "I made an error in judgment."

"Haven't we all,” Sirius said bitterly. "At least yours didn't ruin several lives."

"For a long time I thought it had ruined one." I confessed, "I still have a hard time trusting. Remus, though, he's amazing, isn't he?"

He sat up. "Are you two serious?"

"We're taking our time, but, yeah, I think we're serious, Sirius."

He threw a sofa pillow at me. Good thing I'd finished my coffee. I caught it and tossed it back. "Enough talk, time for action." I went into the kitchen and came out brandishing scissors. "Are you sure you want me to cut your hair? It's really fab long."

He nodded. “I only grew it because I had to, and now I equate long hair with sadness and loss. I'm happier than I've been in too many years to think of. I want short hair."

"Okay," I said, thinking that I wasn't going to make it  _too_  short. "Come into the lav."

Sirius praised his haircut, and I asked if he…as Snuffles…would like to join me on a run before I had to report to work. I'd really be working for the weekend now. Maybe Remus and I could take our “dog” to the park. I smiled when he nodded eagerly and then laughed. "Mother said I'd never do a decent day's work in my life. Looks like the battle-axe was right."

After changing into running clothes, I led my cousin, who really was a gorgeous dog, down the stairs. Bubbles, entering the building with curlers still in her hair, said brightly, "Hullo, Tonks. That a new client?" Snuffles cocked his head to stare at her.

I was used to this sort of thing, so I said, "No, just a friend."

"Even better," she said with a smile before drifting toward the reception desk.

Snuffles gave me a workout, mostly in the arms. He kept trying to deviate from the pavement to follow a smell or check out an interesting sight. My right arm was a bit sore when we returned to my flat. I threw Sirius a litre of water and said, "If you don't want to find yourself in obedience class, you'd better be a good doggie next run."

His mournful look was only slightly less effective when he was human. I'd almost relented when Sirius gave up the repentant act and laughed. I invited him to make himself at home until his afternoon chess match with Remus.

"Don't worry. I won't wake your  _baby_  from his nap," he taunted.

I was still shaking my head over my incorrigible cousin when I headed through the double doors of Auror headquarters. I turned when I heard my name called and obediently walked over to Kingsley's comparatively palatial cubicle. While he went through his secrecy routine, I looked at poster of Sirius.

"I'll get him one day,” Kingsley said.

I shrugged. "I don't think he's guilty, so no offence, but I'm not wishing you luck."

"None taken. He's family, I understand." Seated behind his desk, Kingsley looked at me intently. I hoped I wasn't being weighed, measured, and found wanting. His lips curved.

I blurted, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

He blinked. "Are you asking for yourself or for a friend?"

If my hair had been red that day, I would've looked like a human flame, my cheeks felt so hot. "Friend," I croaked. "You know her. Cami."

"Hmmm." Kingsley began straightening the already precisely stacked files on his desk. "This is not the proper venue for such a discussion." I felt like sliding down in my chair until he mentioned a nearby pub. I smiled in relief when he proposed that after work Friday we, along with Remus and Cami, have a drink in a setting more amenable to casual conversation. The idea of Shacklebolt being casual was mind-boggling and really cool. I couldn't wait to see it. Already thinking of ways to convince Cami that this was a great idea, I had to hear the statement he made twice before it sank in.

"You've procured invitations to a Halloween Party. Oh, right.” I sat up straight and paid full attention to the details, few as they were at this time. The Costume Ball would be held at Malfoy Manor, in the Wiltshire countryside. "What couple are we going to impersonate this time?"

"You're not going to be a couple," Kingsley said. "Too risky. Instead you'll be a father and daughter attending together."

That put snogging in the library off limits. I sighed. "Fine, who's our cover?"

Clearing his throat in a nervous gesture that made my stomach clench in anticipatory dread, he said, "Reginald and Priscilla Parkinson."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have is to admit that one of the reasons I decided to start this series during GoF was to have Sirius alive and well for as long as possible. I used bits of the book like the letter to Harry and his haircut to keep him in character. The “weighed, measured and found wanting” used in this chap was taken from one of my fave films, A Knight's Tale.


	14. Harlequin's Moon

 

The pubs close to the Ministry each cater to a specific clientele. The Gavel is where the wizards and witches who deal with trials and hearings mingle, and The Iron Shackle is the pub Aurors gather in on Friday nights. Sitting at a table near the dartboards lining the back wall listening to Remus and Kingsley chat, I glanced at the door for the tenth time in as many minutes. Finally seeing my friend making her way around the bar, I stood and called, "Wotcher, Cami!"

She waved and headed toward our table. "Hello, Tonks, Remus, Kingsley." Picking up the tankard of Butterbeer I'd ordered for her, she smiled. "Thanks."

"Butterbeer?" Kingsley's tone was humorously inquiring. He lifted a brow along with his glass of imported ale.

Cami tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes met mine for a brief instant before she said quietly, "I don't drink."

Everyone got the implication. She wasn't abstaining for religious convictions. The quick glance she'd thrown me had been rueful and pained. Cami had been the one to invite me to drown my sorrows after my break-up with Evan. Long after I'd quit in drunken misery, she'd kept on drinking until she'd passed out. Soon afterwards, Morty and I had persuaded her to enter a treatment programme.

I asked Cami about a recent case. Without divulging specifics, she told us about an insurance scam with an ironic humour that Kingsley clearly appreciated. I was mentally patting myself on the back when Remus leaned close to whisper, "You're an adorable matchmaker."

Pretending to pout, I said huffily, "Adorable?"

He smiled wolfishly. I now enjoyed the aptness of the expression as much as the tingle that went down my spine in response. In a low, husky voice he said, "Sexy."

"That's better." I kissed him full on the mouth to show my appreciation. I was very appreciative. Our companions were not.

"PDA's are considered unbecoming to an Auror, Tonks," Kingsley said.

I unlocked Remus's lips and turned to respond indignantly that I wasn't on duty when I noticed the corners of Kingsley’s mouth were twitching. Cami giggled. I made a face. "OK, fine, it's only natural that you're jealous, being unattached. I understand completely, and I'll be more considerate."

"How kind," Cami said with a long-suffering look at the wizard on her right.

Kingsley smiled. Inwardly, I gloated over my brilliance in getting the two together. Jumping up when I saw a group leave a dartboard open, I dashed over to claim it. "Let's play!"

A few hours later, Remus and I had won two matches of Cricket, and he'd narrowly won several matches of 501, but I'd lost something more important than a darts match. My matchmaking hadn't been the success I'd first thought it would be. Kingsley and Cami got along great, but they didn't strike sparks off each other. There were no lingering looks, brushing of fingers or anything remotely like romantic interest arcing between them. Sitting at our table listening to the pair discussing dogs—he had a chocolate lab, and she was gushing about the Newfoundland mix of her dreams—I tried not to pout.

Remus whispered in my ear, "Whenever you do that with your lower lip, I want to. . . ."

Instantly distracted from my disappointment, I leaned closer, murmuring, "What?"

My eyes opened wide when I felt his finger rubbing my lip back and forth. He chuckled. I looked at him with a dazed smile before throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him soundly.

"Merlin save you, Tonks, if you act like this on Halloween,” Kingsley said.

Remus asked, "What's this about Halloween?" His sideways glance read my nervousness, and he sat up straighter.

Before he could ask, Kingsley said, "I think I've had one ale too many. Thanks for inviting me. I've enjoyed getting to know everyone better, but I'd better Apparate home." He flashed a piratical smile. I looked surreptitiously over at Cami. Nope, she wasn't even affected in the gorgeous guy appreciation way that I was. Sighing heavily, I rose along with the others and followed them to the door.

Once the other two had Apparated, Remus regarded me steadily. "I think we need to talk."

"Want to go admire the last quarter moon on my rooftop?" His expression softened. He nodded and then Apparated. I released a deep breath and followed suit.

Up amongst the greenery of the rooftop garden, I stood crossing my arms, not looking forward to sharing the details of our next mission. I should've told him sooner, but I hadn't wanted to deal with the reality myself, so I'd procrastinated.

"Feeling defensive?"

Immediately rubbing my arms like I'd been cold, I shook my head and laughed a bit. "No, not at all, I didn't come up with this plan, I just got handed it like a hot potato." My laugh was short. "I…I guess I figured I'd let it cool down a bit before I tossed it at you."

I admired the fluid grace of his movements, even while acknowledging silently that if I got my teeth rattled for keeping secrets, I deserved it. Instead of shaking me, Remus slid his hands up and down my arms in a comforting motion. "You don't have to handle things by yourself anymore. Let me share the burdens."

Blinking back tears of relief that he wasn't mad, I tried to smile. "All right." Unable to look into his eyes, I turned my head to rest on his shoulder and hugged him. I released a shaky breath. "Our cover this time isn't a couple, since Rosier might be on the lookout for one. It's…er…a father and daughter."

The hands that had begun stroking my back stilled. "Who?" My strangled laugh caused him to say, "No. Not the Parkinsons."

The quiet indignation in his voice made me feel better for my outburst in Kingsley's office. I'd used expletives that had once earned Mum's infamous Soapy Mouth Jinx. Once I'd stopped cursing and calmed down, I realized that the plan was sound. Although the knowledge had been paid for dearly, I knew the Parkinsons, and Prissy, especially well. I could impersonate her in a heartbeat. I just didn't want to. In a small voice, I said, "If there was any other way, I'd say hell no, but there's not, so I said I'd do it."

"Oh, baby." His lips grazed my forehead and then drifted down to my mouth. The way he said “baby” wasn't the same as those blokes you hear in the pub saying, “Order me another beer, will you baby?” It wasn't demeaning. It was used in the same way I'd called him baby, with tenderness and caring.

A kiss in the moonlight is usually romantic, but this was comforting. Remus knew I didn't look forward to being Evan’s fiancée for a night, and I was well aware that he didn't look forward to watching me swan around with my ex, even if I was playing the part of someone else.

"He never made me feel the way you make me feel," I said as his lips trailed down my throat. When he reached the curve where the love bite had once shown, my heart pounded. "Do it again." His mouth was warm, and after lightly sucking my skin, his lips returned to mine. I lightly sucked his tongue. Our kiss became passionate. After several heated moments, Remus stepped away, breathing heavily.

"I'll come back tomorrow at eleven and bring a picnic for the park. You can tell me the details then." His smile was tight. "Er…I think I'll bring Snuffles along." Remus's gaze flickered down to my chest. "Remove the temptation to mark my territory further."

"Remove?" I smiled cheekily.

"Reduce," he conceded, smiling. I offered to see him downstairs, but he shook his head and headed for the fire escape. The waning moon seemed to put a spring in his stride, or maybe that was me.

I went to watch him climb down, blowing him a kiss when he reached the bottom. After Remus Apparated, I reclined on the lounger and watched the stars, smiling as I rubbed with my fingertips the small, private reminder that the man I claimed also claimed me.

 

On Halloween, Remus and I met in back of the Parkinsons’ London home and entered through the kitchen entrance. The staff had been dismissed, making the Underground's work easier. I led Remus up the service stairway, stopping at the third floor landing to give him a warm, thorough kiss. "That's got to last until you look yourself again."

The backs of his fingers brushed my cheek. "I'm grateful they're not an affectionate family." Remus's lips twisted. "I'm even happier that Priscilla is cool toward her fiancé as well."

I nodded in heartfelt agreement. If Prissy had been the lovey-dovey type toward Evan, I wouldn't be able to pull the evening off. Thankfully, like a lot of Slytherins, she regarded the emotions that made my life worthwhile bourgeois and distasteful. Steering my mind away from the flash of memory of her lying passively on Evan's bed as though thinking of England or something, I kissed Remus again. That was brill for ridding my brain of unpleasantness.

"Ahem."

I turned to see a small group of Underground members. My eyes met Emmeline's. She winked before saying, "If you are finished discussing the upcoming mission, we are ready to proceed."

Sturgis Podmore snorted. Kingsley told Remus, "This way. We've got the Polyjuice Maximus and Parkinson's costume."

Sighing as I watched my guy stride off to get stuffy, I followed Emmeline and Hestia into Priscilla's bedroom. It was really pink. My jaw dropped as I surveyed the frilly room that would give me nightmares. Hestia smiled. "Lovely, isn't it?"

I remembered the photo on the back of the novel I'd picked up in Hestia's flat. Barbara Cartland seemed to have been inordinately fond of the colour. I smiled weakly. "That's one way to put it." Mrs. Vance coughed discretely. I pressed my lips together to keep from giggling. Priscilla was sleeping in her canopied bed, and hearing a soft snore, I asked, "Memory/Sleep Charm combination spell?"

Emmeline nodded. "Hestia's quite talented with them."

I resolved never to be in a room alone with Hestia and to utilise Shielding Charms at all times. She'd probably love to make me forget Remus. I'd seen her envious look in the corridor.

"Here's your costume," the witch who coveted my man said in a tone that made my insides drop. It was maliciously amused.

I saw why. My costume was that of Columbine, the perky servant in the classic Comedie Francaise. The full skirted dress ended at the knees. The blue, red, and green diamond patterned fabric would make Priscilla's figure look even stouter. That didn't bother me. Neither did the mob cap and frilly little apron. After metamorphosing into Prissy and being helped into my dress, the reason for my dislike of the costume became readily apparent. The bodice was indecently low.

Hestia's glee turned to horror. I feigned innocence. "What's wrong?" She made incoherent splutters. I grinned at Emmeline. "This thing is charmed to keep me from spilling out, right?"

"Of course." The stately inclination of the older woman's head was belied by the naughty twinkle in her eye. "You didn't have any…wardrobe malfunctions…last time, did you?"

"Last time? What's this about last time?" Hestia’s cheeks flushed bright pink with indignation.

Emmeline waved her hand dismissively. "No time for your prudishness, Hestia, we have a mission to commence."

Downstairs in the library, I saw my “father” Reginald in an old fashioned Harlequin costume of a tight fitting long jacket and trousers made up of diamond patches of green, blue, and red. He held a tan mask in his hand, ironically representing that he was one of the people.

"You look…charming…my dear Columbine," Remus said.

I snickered. "Yeah, right." Smiling, I said, "You should be Scaramouche instead of Harlequin."

My partner smiled widely, an odd sight to see on the patrician face. Prissy took after her mother, who was recovering at their country estate from some illness, probably an aversion to her icy husband. Bowing, Remus said, "He was born with the gift of laughter and the sense that the world was mad. That's a quote from  _Scaramouche_ , and thank you for the compliment." Wrinkling his nose, no doubt over my liberal use of perfume, he smiled. "I hope Sabatini was correct when he wrote, "In this world, nothing succeeds like audacity."

"I'd drink to that if I had one," I said, gazing toward the drinks cabinet. "Can I have one?"

"No," Kingsley snapped. “You need to keep your wits sharp tonight, Tonks."

Merlin, he acted like I'd drink a bottle and go staggering. Remus reached out and took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "You'll do fine."

Some imp of mischief made me say, "You're the best Daddy in the whole wide world!" and throw my arms around Remus/Reginald's neck, planting a kiss on his open-in-shock mouth.  Hestia, Sturgis and Kingsley protested, Sturgis muttering, "That's not right." Emmeline's chuckle was echoed by Remus, who stepped away shaking his head. I said throatily, "Will you read me a bedtime story later, Daddy?"

A wolfish smile on cold-fish features was surreal. "How about Little Red Riding Hood?"

"How about you Floo to Malfoy Manor and stop this sick and disgusting display?" Hestia demanded.

I shrugged and flounced toward the fireplace. Before I threw the Floo powder, I stated with a sneer, "You're just jealous because Daddy likes me best." The look on the witch's face was priceless. I was still smirking when I stepped into the Malfoy library.

 

"Delightful costume, my dear Priscilla. How…buxom…you look. Evan is awaiting you in the ballroom." Lucius Malfoy, in a white costume with a black mask, was a fitting Pulcinella. In the Italian Commedie dell'arte, the character was witty, and always got out of everything. Slytherin were quite fond of satire as long as it was directed at others. Narcissa, breaking with what I'd thought was the ball's theme, was Marie Antoinette. They turned to Remus and bestowed their cool greetings on him as well. The moment another guest stepped out of the fireplace, we took our leave.

"They do this sort of thing often?" Remus asked quietly as we surveyed the ballroom. Sumptuously decorated in black and white, the space was filled with costumed partygoers.

I nodded. "If the merely wealthy entertain grandly, then rich Slytherin pure-bloods must entertain three times as lavishly."

Outwardly impassive, Remus made a quiet sound of wry humour. "Rosier's on his way over, and by his costume, believes himself a Scaramouche. When he arrives, I'm off to find Parkinson's associates." His voice lowered. "Take a deep breath and remember that what we're doing is vital, and midnight is only a few hours away."

In traditional costume colours of black with silver and white trim, Evan lifted his white and black mask to say, "Good evening. You're both looking very festive." He extended his arm. "Come, Priscilla."

Feeling like a pug called by her master, I placed my hand on his sleeve. Hours later, after I'd obediently trailed along, chatting with the wives and partners of his associates and dancing with everyone he instructed me to, I noticed that the ballroom crowd was thinner. The guests who had worn the costume of the Commedie dell'arte or Francais were absent except Evan. He was smiling down into the pretty face of a Wizengamot official's wife. She complimented him on his “Romeo outfit.” My lips curved. At that instant, my temporary fiancé's eyes caught mine. I felt a frisson of alarm, but he merely smiled in return and continued to chat with the other woman.

A short while later, he steered me out of the ballroom and up the grand staircase, saying, "How remiss I've been, failing to greet my dear fiancée properly."

I was manoeuvred into a small guest bedroom. Unhappily aware that our shared amusement had made Evan suspicious, I clung to my assumed personae and passively allowed him to take me into his arms. Thankful that Prissy was a repressed woman, I stood trying not to shudder while he kissed me. It wasn't that his mouth was repulsive physically. It just felt deeply wrong to have any man but Remus pressing his lips to mine. I detached my mind while his hands roamed and his kiss grew demanding.

Startled by his pushing me back onto the bed, I protested instinctively, "Evan, no."

He stared down at me and drawled, "You're dressed as a servant, my dear, so if you don't want to service me, you'd better start talking,  _Nymphadora."_

Involuntarily, my body jerked. Pale blue eyes blazed. "I've spent all night sorting out the couples, wondering who you were impersonating. I never guessed you'd have this much nerve." Allowing his body weight to imprison me, he said in grudging admiration, "If you hadn't slipped up at the end, I would never have been the wiser."

I whimpered. "Evan, why are you acting this way? I don't understand.”

He chuckled. "Do you think Prissy knows the difference between Romeo and Scaramouche? The only thing she enjoys learning about is the latest fad and gossip." His lips brushed mine. "If you don't change, my little metamorphmagus, I'm going to take that silence as an invitation."

His hand was on my thigh. Desperately, I turned my head to the side, saying dully, "I smiled because I thought you looked like Romeo, too, but I won't stop you if this is what you want." The resignation in my tone halted the upward slide of his fingers. He took my chin in his hand and turned my face in order to peer at me intently.

"Damn me, I really can't tell." The hand he'd removed from beneath my skirt trailed over the skin exposed by my bodice. "If I've offended you, Priscilla, then I apologise. Although I am not privy to certain plans, I know that secrecy is vital, and your father would be the first to agree with my methodology." Kissing me softly, he coaxed, "Tell me again why you want to marry me."

Was this a trick question? In Auror training, we'd learnt the principle of Occam's Razor, the law of economy which states  _the simplest explanation is the best._ Clinging to that tenet, I looked him in the eyes and forced myself to say, "I love you."

Evan cradled my face in his hands. "Only one woman has ever said she loved me, and that's you, Nymphadora."

I froze in shock as his mouth covered mine.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fine mess our Tonks has got herself into! If you've never read Scaramouche, I highly recommend it. Andre-Louis is a great anti-hero, the villain an attractive devil like Evan, and the old film of it doesn't do the written word justice.


	15. Tears of the Moon

 

Why had I forgotten that where Slytherin are concerned, nothing is simple? My first instinct had been to repeat something I'd heard Prissy say to a friend during a party once—he was everything I'd always wanted—but she'd been talking about a present, for Merlin's sake! I lay rigidly beneath Evan while he tried to overwhelm me with kisses. If he was using the display of passion to sway me into metamorphosing to my true self, it wasn't going to work. Not because our sex life had been awful; some women I'd known, when they broke off a serious relationship, immediately began revising history. They said that the physical side had been equally bad, and they didn't miss the intimacy at all. I'd never done that. True, until Remus I'd only had Rory to compare the physical chemistry against, but some things you just know. Still, even though compatibility in this area had never been a problem, and I had missed the bastard for a long, long time, I didn't kiss him back. I didn’t love him anymore.

"I've missed my pretty girl," Evan said. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of my lips. "Let me in."

I made a split decision. I started to cry. Fat tears rolled down my cheeks while I bawled. Priscilla wasn’t a pretty tears kind of girl, and it felt good to be able to release my angry emotions. It felt even better to have Evan stop pressing me for a response I was never going to give. He stood by the bed watching me sob in noisy gulps with an unreadable look on his face. Through swollen eyelids, I saw a flicker of discomfort pass over his features.

Gruffly, he said, "Priscilla, control yourself."

Immediately, I began taking shuddering breaths, giving the appearance of dutifully attempting to stop my crying jag. His eyes closed briefly. I knew I'd convinced him when he said, "Prissy, disregard everything I've said. I regret to have hurt your feelings, but I was convinced you were an imposter." Stiffly, he continued, "I was unprepared for your declaration. I'm honoured, and of course care for you deeply." Handing me a handkerchief, Evan looked away. "After you compose yourself, I'll escort you to your father. He will take you home if you feel disinclined to stay."

"I…I'm…sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I won't embarrass you again." For a moment, I thought I'd overplayed my humbled fiancée act.

Evan said, "Let's agree that this was an unfortunate occurrence and leave it at that, shall we? I'll come round and take you to lunch tomorrow." He kissed my cheek when I finished mopping up the tears. "You'll feel better after a good night's rest."

I nodded and asked, "My face. Does it look too bad?"

He was silent for a moment. "Why don't you let the house-elf perform a Complexion Charm before I take you downstairs?"

Inside the lavatory set aside for cosmetic and wardrobe repairs, the house-elf was busy mending a tear in Narcissa Malfoy's hem. I fixed my face with covert morphing and rejoined Evan in the corridor. He gave a small smile of approval. "Much better."

In the ballroom, I saw “Reginald” talking to Vincent Crabbe Sr. who was dressed as the blustery windbag Pantaloon. When he saw me, Remus's tense posture relaxed. "Enjoying the ball, my dear?"

I answered his question with a sniff. "Actually, I don't feel very well. If it's all right with you, Father, I'd like to go home."

Considering me for a moment, Remus nodded. "Yes, I've enjoyed myself quite sufficiently. Rosier, please make our excuses to the Malfoys. Crabbe, good show tonight."

Barrel chest puffed with pride over that mystifying remark, Crabbe smiled broadly. "Yes, it was, and it's just the beginning."

Evan accompanied us to the library. I was thankful that we were Flooing to the Parkinson home because I knew from the set expression on his face that he'd do a tracing spell to make one final authentication of his  _fiancée._  After Remus and I stepped into the Parkinson library, the group separated us, asking questions we answered succinctly in order that Hestia could adjust the Parkinsons’ memories as soon as possible.

I was disturbed to hear the report that there had been at least fifty wizards and witches gathered in the cavernous wine cellar to declare their allegiance to the Dark Lord. The assembly had been assured that their great and noble leader had laid intricate plans for the downfall of Harry Potter, although they hadn't been made privy to the exact nature of them. Voldemort might be insane, but he wasn't stupid. He gave his followers the illusion that they were integral parts of a grand scheme without disclosing information that could bring those plans to ruin if his pretended trust was misplaced. I could see the disappointment on everyone's faces.

Emmeline said, "I've always kept Dumbledore informed of our endeavors, and he was hoping that this mission would…ah, well, regardless, I'll return home and owl Albus immediately."

She left while the rest of us took care of the Parkinsons. I was relieved to put on my own clothes. It got me out of the same room as Remus. My insides had been twisting ever since I'd seen his nostrils flare, inhaling deeply as he escorted me to the Malfoy library. The knots in my stomach had tightened when he'd repeated the action several times while I'd explained that Rosier had been scrutinising couples, looking for spies that night. His expression had been impassive, but a muscle in his cheek had jerked, and he didn't meet my eyes. Wretchedly, I knew Remus smelled Evan's scent all over me.

When Hestia invited the others back to her flat for a drink, I claimed fatigue and Flooed home. The moment I arrived, I left a trail of shoes and clothing marking my heedless rush toward the lavatory. Once the Water Charm engaged, I began scrubbing my skin, frantically cleansing Evan's touch and smell off my flesh.

There wasn't enough hot water to wash away the raw look on Remus's face when I'd left. Unable to deal with what he might be thinking, I slid down the tiles, weeping. I couldn't answer when I heard him call my name on the other side of the bathroom door.

"Let me in, I need to talk to you. I don't want you to misunderstand…damn it, I'm coming in!" Remus opened the door and saw me huddled on the floor of the shower. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He shut down the water, wrapped a bath sheet around me and lifted me up. Carrying me into my room, he set me on the edge of the bed and dried my hair with a charm.

"I didn't kiss him back, I swear!" I croaked around the lump in my throat.

He sat beside me and pulled me onto his lap. "I know. I know." Remus kissed my eyelashes that were spiky with tears and began tenderly kissing every part of my face. His hands rubbed my arms. "I know you didn't. I would've been able to tell."

I thought a trifle wildly that I bet nobody ever got away with cheating on a werewolf. I stayed curled up against him, shivering, as he stroked me and explained, "It's not only my senses that are more acute. I don't usually have trouble controlling my animal instincts, yet tonight . . . ." I looked up into his face. It was twisted with emotion, his eyes intense when he said, "I wanted to replace his scent on your skin with my own."

My breath caught and expelled in an audible, ragged sigh. I slid off his lap and rushed to the small chest of drawers, yanking out a tank, panties, and sleep shorts while asking, "Look the other way for a minute, OK?"

He turned his head, smiling a little. I knew I was being ridiculous, since he'd already seen everything, but this was different. After swiftly dressing, I sat beside him. Taking his hand in mine, I placed it to my cheek.

"What do you want?" Remus asked softly.

I tried to smile but it was a pitiful effort. "I washed off the scent, but memories don't wash away. I want you to replace them."

His eyes glinted like Amber when I lay back against the mattress. "Did he press…?"

Remus's growl produced a response Evan's physical assault hadn't received. I mutely nodded and pulled him down atop me, lifting my head, seeking his kiss. The feel of his body and mouth against mine was more cleansing than soap and water. My bruised heart was comforted by the press of his skin and lips. Drinking in his unique scent and his kiss, I was inexplicably sorry for Evan, because he would never know how good this kind of closeness felt. Remus deepened the kiss, and I forgot about everything but him.

Eventually, our embrace became so heated that Remus rolled away, panting. "Better now?"

I got the giggles. "What do you think?"

Turning his head to meet my gaze, his low laughter sent a pleasurable shiver down my spine. "I think even if I couldn't see and feel the heat of your flush, smell your skin, or hear your rapid breaths, the way you grabbed my arse at the end would've told me that you were."

I tried to say it with a straight face, but immediately after I said, "Just giving myself a good memory," I broke into laughter. My unrestrained mirth triggered his. Laughing with Remus felt almost as good as kissing him. Looking at his mouth, I sighed.  _Almost_

"I should go." Remus sat up. I impulsively hugged him, pressing against his back while I asked, "Will you meet me in the park after work? You could bring Snuffles. I'll buy dinner from the vendor of your choice."

He heard the smile in my voice and covered my hands with his. "How can I refuse such a generous offer?"

I accompanied him to the door and kissed him goodbye, giggling in surprise when he cupped my backside. Remus winked. "I wanted a good memory too."

 

The next day, I was still grinning like a fool when I skipped through the double doors into work. Toning my skipping down to a sprightly walk when senior staff raised their eyebrows at me as I passed, I made my way back to Rotten Row. I stopped by Tom's abnormally tidy cubicle. "Good morning, gorgeous!"

"How many times have I told you not to encourage his conceit, Tonks?" Julia scolded behind me. I turned and said, "Good morning, beautiful, and I'm just stating the facts, ma'am."

"You must've had a Happy Halloween," Tom said with a smile.

Explaining yes and no was impossible, so I answered, "Yeah, I did." Julia appeared ready to interrogate for juicy details, but at that moment a popping sound was heard. We all watched a file appear in Tom's inbox. His eyebrows lifted while reading the particulars of the case to us.

"A Mrs. Jorkins, who previously filed a missing persons report with the patrol squad, is now filing a report of suspected Dark magic involved in the disappearance of her daughter, Bertha, some months ago." He read further and looked at his girlfriend. “I've been put on the case with Tonks. Sorry, Jules, it appears someone tattled about seeing us snog on duty."

She fumed. "If I ever find out who did it." Her perfectly manicured fingers snapped. "They'll get a hex they won't soon forget."

I smiled impishly. "We can always do a power of three tracing spell."

Tom leaned forward. "Every wizard's dream." Pretending to cower at the sight of Julia's threatening wand, he asked, "How about today after the rest of the lemmings have made the daily exodus to the pubs?"

We agreed, grinning like naughty children. After doing a bit of boring paperwork at my desk, I gratefully sent the completed tasks winging to Gulch's hopefully overloaded inbox and headed for Tom's cubicle. He slipped on Auror robes, his appearance elegant as usual. I was content to be presentable. We discussed how to handle the mother as we walked toward the exit.

Showing our badges to Mrs. Jorkins a short while later, my partner and I exchange a quick glance of silent communication before he smiled slightly. "Auror Fenton, my partner Auror Tonks. Madam Jorkins, we'd like to come in and ask you a few questions."

The plump older witch visibly preened at being called Madam by such an aristocratic young man. Ignoring me and my ordinary shade of brown hair, she told him, "Come in. I'm at my wit's end, I assure you."

I crossed my eyes when Tom glanced my way. His lips twitched. I said in my most self-effacing tone, "Perhaps I might search your daughter's room for signs of Dark magic while my partner takes your statement?" She shooed me off to the bedroom at the back of the flat before offering my partner tea. Knowing that his patrician tone would keep the mother entranced for some time, I performed several Dark Arts detection spells in various rooms of the flat before entering Bertha's bedroom.

There was a chilling atmosphere of arrested development in the room. The single bed was covered in eyelet lace. Posters of wizard rock groups that had been popular over fifteen years ago covered the walls. The witch worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but if I hadn't known otherwise, I would've thought her a Hogwarts student.

No Dark objects were in the room. The faintest trace of a Memory Charm lingered; plenty of people used Remembralls and other memory aids. According to the patrol guard report, Bertha was scatterbrained in the extreme. It made sense that she'd resort to charms.

"Wotcher, Bertha!" I said in surprise when I found the journal. I'd thought it a textbook, due to its immensity. When I’d opened it, the words,  _Bertha’s Private Journal_  jumped out at me. I scanned the entries. They started when she was a first year at Hogwarts and seemed to be a record of everything she'd seen and told. Whoever had cheated on an exam, been tardy to class or snogged behind a statue was written down in meticulous detail. I frowned. Her writing style wasn't riveting, but it sure didn't seem like she had a bad memory. I skipped ahead to her seventh year. Gleefully, I read about cousin Sirius's romantic exploits as well as a hex that had me clapping a hand over my mouth to contain unladylike laughter.

"Wait a minute, this is odd." This time I spoke to the stuffed rabbit on the bed, "Look here, the newest entries are scatty, not detailed like the earlier ones. I wonder what happened."

"Talking to oneself is never a good sign," Tom drawled from the doorway.

I waved him in. "My partner was busy so I had to make do with Peter Rabbit here." He snorted in amusement while I showed him how the journal entries started precise and ended in a way that made it seem that she could barely remember her own name.

He pointed. "This entry… _Bringing work round to Mr. Crouch's residence. I do hope his house-elf doesn't start kissing his feet while I'm there. I find the creature unnaturally attached and absurdly jealous of me. Winky treats me very poorly, serving burnt biscuits and cold tea._ " Tom's eyes were puzzled. "Compare that with the entry made later the same day… _Had to look up where I'd gone so I could explain to Mum why dinner was late. I couldn't remember. How silly of me. I must make…something…for dinner…_ " He paused. "If the handwriting wasn't the same, I'd say two different people wrote them."

Mrs. Jorkins entered the bedroom waving a postcard with Albanian folk dancers on the front. I watched the colourfully dressed villagers dance before Tom took the card with a smirk and turned it over to read aloud, " _Dear Mum, I think I've been enjoying my trip because the rest of the group say that I have. You'll be interested to hear that I met someone I knew from Hogwarts in the tavern of the inn we're staying at for the next few nights. I hope…I forget his name…but I hope he comes back and talks to me again. Yours, Bertha."_

"I just know that this man she'd known from Hogwarts was a vampire, or a Dark wizard at the least, and had—" The witch's voice dropped to a dire tone. " _Dishonorable intentions_ toward my little Bertha. When she did not succumb to him, he did something dreadful to her, I know it!"

My eyes went to the large portrait on the wall. A plump, scowling girl stared at us with beady dark eyes out of a face that only a mother could imagine fanciable. I thought of my father's cousin and wondered if naming one's child Bertha doomed them to spinsterhood. My partner said gently, "We will do everything possible to locate your daughter." I gave the woman a receipt for the journal and promised to send an owl to the Albanian authorities the moment we returned to the office.

"Do…do you think  _you_ could do it?" Mrs. Jorkins asked Tom. "I'm sure they would give the matter priority if an Auror of such reputable family were to bring the matter to their attention."

Tom looked at me apologetically before assuring the woman he would do as she wished. Once outside the building, he said, "Sorry about that."

I shrugged. "Not your fault some old fashioned witch demands a big strong man with a proper wizarding family name takes charge." I looked up to see Mrs. Jorkins staring out a lace covered window. Metamorphosing my hair to neon pink, I flashed a backwards V and grinned at Tom. "Less work for me, and anyways, I got the most brilliant idea for a hex from Bertha's journal."

He smiled in anticipation. "What?"

I snickered and filled him in on our way back to the Ministry. The rest of the day flew by. After the aptly named lemmings hurled themselves out of the office, Tom, Julia, and I sat, making a triangle in the corridor of junior Aurors. Julia conjured a blue fire in a bell jar. Tom held up the memo notifying him that a complaint had been made to Supervisor Gulch. Eyes gleaming with mischief, we raised our wands and chanted the spell in unison. Once Tom dropped the memo into the fire, the ashes swirled and rose and began to drift toward a cubicle closest to the more senior Aurors.

We stood. Julia put away the jar, smirking. "Harriet the  _spy_  will have a hard time explaining those purple pustules tomorrow."

Tom shook his head. "I partnered with her one time, refused her offer of a drink, and she does this?"

Julia and I smiled at each other. We knew why Harriet had been so shirty. The saying wasn't “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned” for nothing. I said, "At least we're kind enough to make the pustules temporary. If we were vindictive, she might've been covering them up with makeup for life."

My friends invited me out for a drink, but I told them I had plans. Once outside the Ministry doors, my plans changed. Someone was waiting for me.

"Wotcher, Tonks," Cami said with a poor attempt at lightness. "Got time to talk?"

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our Tonks leads an eventful life, doesn't she? I enjoyed putting Bertha Jorkins in the chap. I always wondered if she was a Harriet the Spy type, and if she'd kept a journal of wrongdoings like a junior Filch.


	16. Vanished Moon

 

One of the things I admired most about Camillia Llewellyn was her willingness to discover the underlying causes of her alcoholism. According to her psychiatric Healer, my friend's estrangement from her Muggle father, who was a heavy drinker, had contributed to her addiction. The police detective inspector had been devastated to learn about the magical world and his daughter's abilities. He'd previously believed in nothing he couldn't see or touch, and had become bitter to learn that the world was more than he'd dreamt of in his philosophy.

Cami had been sober for almost a year. Reading the taut expression on the older woman's face while she asked me if I had time for a talk, I knew that she was tempted to drink and needed someone to distract her until the urge faded.

"If you have plans with Remus, we could talk later," she said.

"No! I'm just meeting Remus in the park for fish and chips or whatever's handy. Care to come along and help us entertain Snuffles?"

Her face lit up. " _Snuffles?_  My dream dog? I'd love to!"

Right then, I didn't care that my ultimate goal was to set Cami up with a wizard who wasn't a fugitive Animagus. If he could keep my friend away from Firewhiskey, then I'd allow Sirius, as Snuffles, to work his doggie magic. Apparating to a grassy dog park that was frequented by wizards and witches, we found Remus walking his four-legged friend. Stepping forward with a huge grin, Cami called, "Come to me, Snuffles! Come to me!"

Snuffles needed no encouragement, pulling the leash out of Remus's grip and bounding over. I felt like I was watching one of those Muggle telly adverts for dog food. Dropping to her knees, Cami embraced the dog and ran her hands along his ribs, saying, "What a good boy!"

I grimaced when she gave him a kiss. "Dog germs, Cami, how can you stand the dog germs?"

Looking more like a small black bear, my canine cousin blinked his eye, the incorrigible rogue. My friend laughed while stroking his neck. "I grew up with dogs. Mum breeds Corgis." She smiled while the dog pushed his body forward to encourage her to continue petting. "I like Snuffles better. I did a bit of research at the library while there on another case. I'm convinced he's at least half Newfoundland, and I found out loads of interesting things about the breed."

Remus stood beside me, slipping his arm around my waist and doing a little light stroking of his own on my abdomen beneath the short jacket I'd switched my robes for at the end of the day.

Cami chuckled when Snuffles dropped to the ground and rolled onto his back, giving her a pleading look. She gently tickled his chest between his front legs, telling us when the dog began to look almost hypnotized, "Besides being known for size and muscular strength, Newfoundlands have tremendous lung capacity and been known to swim great distances to save people from drowning." When she faced the dog and moved her palms up his chest, his body language said, “Don't stop that.”

"Do they try and get a leg over any bitch that'll have them?" I asked tartly.

Snuffles whined. The susceptible witch gasped. "No, they're known for intelligence, loyalty, and sweetness. They're the ideal playmate and companion for children."

The smug-looking canine rolled over and got to his feet, making a happy throat-scratching sound when he was caressed behind the ears. Remus said, "He likes that."

I stared fixedly at Cami's fingers. "Erm…do… _all_  the members of the canine family enjoy being petted like that?"

Hazel eyes narrowed. In a tone of discovery, she said, "You mean like canis lupis?" Grinning, she answered, "Yes, I'm sure they like their ears fondled. Canine courtship includes a lot of ear sniffing, licking and nibbling."

Trying not to blush while thinking about the things Remus liked to do to my ears with his lips and tongue, I asked, "Anything else?"

"Sure, the area in front of the tail is an erogenous zone, very sensitive. See?"

I saw the way Snuffles was raising his hind leg reflexively and making a contented sound. Cami gently pressed the webbing that connected his hind leg with her thumb and forefinger. The dog gave her a look that conveyed plainly, “That feels really good and I want more.” She smiled. "When dogs are playing, they sometimes nip each other in this area, so we know it's sensitive, and Snuffles here appears to find it pleasurable."

I tugged Remus over to a nearby bench. Maybe I'd gone mental, but if I was going to have a wolf on my hands every full moon, I wanted to know how to keep him happy. I hadn't grown up with dogs or any kind of pet. They were untidy and expensive according to Mum, who had never allowed them.

"Are you really going to practice on me?" Remus huffed with laughter when I nodded. "Go right ahead, then."

Cami said, "The whole underside can over-stimulate, so I think we'll consider what I've demonstrated enough and go from there."

Snuffles whimpered. The rest of us laughed. Cami rubbed the dog's temple area. I copied her, disregarding my guy's low chuckle.

She marvelled, "He's got the most expressive eyes."

I looked into brown eyes that seemed to gleam in the twilight. "I know."

"I meant Snuffles." Cami snickered. "Rotating the fur around with your fingers on top of his head is nice for your friend. Make little circles, yes, like that, you've got it."

Remus's eyelids were drooping. I practiced rubbing between the ears at the back of his head. It may have hypnotised puppies, but the man whose hair my fingers were sliding through just sighed contentedly. The dog beside us on the ground heaved a sigh too.

" _Lupum auribus tenere_ ," Remus murmured.

I leaned forward and kissed him. "Ooohhh, Latin, what did you say about a wolf?"

He grinned. "To hold a wolf by the ears."

Playfully, I ran my fingertips around his ears and then held them while smirking. I gasped when he lunged and tugged my earlobe gently with his teeth. " _Lupus pilum mutat, non mentum_ …the wolf changes his coat, not his character." He pulled back with a satisfied grin.

Cami said, "I see no further demonstrations of canine courtship rituals are needed." Smiling, she showed me all the areas a dog liked to have stroked or gently rubbed. The ones I could practice without shocking passers-by seemed to work on humans as well. She suggested one final thing. Remus sat up straight and shook his head.

"No. Thank you, but I am not about to take off my shoes and have the pads between my toes lightly pressed." Listening to Snuffles's happy throaty sounds, he added, "In public, with an audience."

I was glad to hear Cami laugh, and almost as thrilled when she offered to conjure stir fry back at her place. She lived a few blocks from me, and Remus was agreeable, so I was more than happy to have someone else fix dinner. I held Remus's hand while my friend walked Snuffles ahead of us.

"I thought you were trying to discourage her attachment to Sirius," he said quietly.

Sheepishly, I confessed, "She was waiting to talk when I left work. I didn't know how else to keep her from throwing almost a year of sobriety away, so I threw my good intentions out the window."

He kissed my cheek. Snuffles barked. Cami laughingly ordered, "Hurry up, Snuffles is hungry!"

I groused, "Who'd you invite to dinner, us or Snuffles?"

"Do you really want an honest answer?"

The smile in her voice made me shake my head. "No, I might never cadge you a free truffle again."

"Mmm hmm, like you held out on Lisa? Somehow, I'm not worried." Confidence rang in her tone.

During dinner, I noticed Remus enviously watching Snuffles chow down on steak while we ate chicken stir fry. He realised that I was observing and whispered, "Sirius always was a lucky dog."

While I sipped my coffee sitting next to Remus on the sofa, Cami demonstrated the different games I could play with my wolf. I said doubtfully, "My wolf is much too dignified to shake a paw or give me five."

"I'd love to play chase, though." Remus growled playfully.

"Could we do that one before you change? I'm rather fond of being pressed against walls and snogged now." I suppressed a giggle at his arrested expression. Watching Cami dart around the room with Snuffles in pursuit before she dropped down and began playing tug-of-war with a ball she'd transfigured out of a sofa pillow, I said after seeing her wait until her playmate was shaking his head in glee to yank the ball free and throw it, "I thought you were supposed to let the dog win."

"Not always, or he'll think he's stronger than you and try to take over." Cami smiled at the canine who had returned the ball. He stood looking at her soulfully. "You wouldn't try and dominate me, would you?" He barked and began licking her face before nudging her hand. Her smile faded into a wistful expression as she petted him. She told us, "Among all the other information about Newfoundlands that I read, an epitaph struck me the most." She quoted in a voice that wavered, “One who possessed Beauty without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity and all the Virtues of man without any of his Vices.”

I didn't know how to react when she hugged the dog's neck and began to cry. Awkwardly, I asked, "What's wrong, mate?"

"Sorry, it's just…I keep a box at the Muggle post office, and today I got a letter from Mum, saying…" Cami took a shuddery breath. "My father died, and he left instructions not to tell me until after the funeral." Burying her face in Snuffles' coat, she said in a voice thick with tears, "He was glad that I'd stopped drinking before my liver gave out like his, but he'd cut me out of his life and didn't see the need for that to change after his death."

A trip to Wales to go spit on a grave sounded brilliant right then. I moved to hug my friend. "I'm so sorry, Cami."

She said, "I was all set to go get pissed when I remembered you telling me to come have a talk if I ever started thinking about taking a drink." Turning to the dog watching with big, dark eyes, Cami said, "Dogs don't care if you're a witch or a Muggle, they just want a bit of attention and affection. Why can't people be like that?"

I didn't know why humans had to make life so complicated. Remus said gently, "Regardless of the circumstances, I'm sorry for your loss. Is there anything we can do?"

"Would you let me borrow Snuffles for the night?" Catching the surprised look Remus threw my way, she said, "Tonks told me you're watching him for a friend who's out of town, so if you don't feel comfortable with it, I…I'll understand."

Snuffles barked and began wagging his tail while licking her cheek. Remus said uncertainly, "If the company would help."

"It would, so much, and I'd bring him over to Tonks's place first thing in the morning. You could take him back when you two go for a run." Cami's words spilled out quickly in her eagerness.

Puppy dog eyes were turned on Remus, who threw up his hands. "It's certainly fine by me." He glanced sideways. My smile was wobbly as I nodded and rose, following him to the door.

After Remus bid her goodnight, I whispered, "I really am sorry about your dad, about everything, mate. I wish there was something I could do."

She gestured to the dog pressed against her side. "You keeping me away from the pub I was headed for and Remus letting me borrow this big sweetie is more than enough."

I hugged her again and waited for the door to close before wrapping my arms around Remus as tightly as I could. He rubbed my back until the tears stopped rolling down my cheeks and said, "You know, I enjoy watching the night sky when the moon seems to have vanished. The constellations shine brighter."

Sirius had his moments, but Remus was the sweetest man I knew. I said, "You never did tell me a bedtime story."

He feigned consternation. "I didn't? Well, there's a lounger on a rooftop nearby where I could remedy that."

"Is there a Little Red Riding Hood Constellation?"

Smiling with a determined wolfishness, he answered, "There will be."

The Warming Charm seemed unnecessary lying in his arms staring up at the stars. I pointed to a random cluster and said, "I think that's the basket Red was bringing Grandma."

Remus's smile flashed white in the darkness. "What big eyes you have."

"The better to see how wonderful you are." He made a sound of protest. I said, "I told Sirius that you were amazing, and I meant it." Clasping his hand, I brought it to my lips. "How did you cope with being a werewolf for all those years before Wolfsbane potion without resorting to drink?"

"Don't make me out to be a saint, pure and noble of heart," he said. “I've seen the bottom of many a bottle, and I've been bitter over prejudice experienced and opportunities lost. My friends helped me learn to cope. Afterwards, I had memories to cling to, and my Latin to remind me  _dum spiro, spero_ \- while there's breath, there's hope." His hands cradled my face. "When I met you, my hopes were realised."

"Oh, Remus." I turned my head to kiss his palm. "You answered hopes I thought I'd thrown out with an engagement ring." My vision began to blur. "But they were just waiting for the right time and the right man."

His lips brushing, parting, and melding to mine caused a wave of feeling that my mind shied away from naming. Instead, I concentrated on showing Remus how glad I was that I'd picked up the wrong wizard and found a man whose embrace felt so right my entire body ached with the sweetness of it.

"Oh, Nymphadora," he sighed. The hands that had been stirring my senses now began soothing them. Remus brushed his lips across the top of my head. I listened to his rapid heartbeat slow into a steady rhythm. Using what I thought of as his sexy professor voice, he said, "See that globular cluster of stars? It points to the constellation Pegasus, the thundering horse of Zeus and carrier of his thunderbolts. Pegasus is only visible from August through December, and if you look down a bit to the left of the cluster, you'll see the nose."

I pointed. "There, I see it…and his flank…his leg…and that thing you ride on." His approving chuckle made me glad I'd paid attention when Dad was showing me the stars. I took his hand and gestured to a light yellow star on the “neck” of the winged horse. "That's you, the High-Minded Man."

"Are you accusing me of having my mind on heavenly bodies?" Remus's fingers trailed along my curves as teasingly as his tone. I wondered if he could feel the heat of my blush, hear my breath quicken. He inhaled sharply. A tense silence fell. He could. After a few minutes, he said, lightly squeezing my hand, "That star is named Homam. The Arabic name is Sa'd al-humam, the lucky star of the high minded man. I've always thought of the Pegasus legends, Perseus and Bellerophon as encouragement and warning."

"You're like Perseus, negotiating difficulties by rising above them," I said.

"I'd not want to over-reach myself and be tossed back to earth like Bellerophon," Remus agreed wryly.

"I know you're a Perseus. You've got the girl."

He chuckled, "Yes, I do, and I'm more than satisfied with my lovely nymph."

I didn't mind him saying that, smiling when Remus began to tell about a queen of the fairies named Nymphidia. Listening to his pleasant voice, my eyes slowly drifted closed.

In the morning, I experienced déjà-vu hearing, "Nobody answered my knock, so I went next door. Morty told me you two might be up here."

Cracking my eyes open to peer irritably at Cami, I growled, "Give me your coffee and nobody gets hurt." Remus chuckled, and after I consumed most of the mug, I smiled at both of them. "Good morning." A bark brought my attention to Snuffles. He looked…shiny… "Did you bathe him?" I asked incredulously.

"I couldn't let him sleep on my bed all smelly." Crouched down to hug the dog's neck and give him a kiss on the head, Cami told us, "He was a godsend, and if your friend ever decides to give his dog up, tell him I'd treat Snuffles like a king and love him forever, all right?" She smiled when the canine licked her faced enthusiastically. She said, "I've got an early client or I'd stay and pet the insatiable sweetheart. Thanks again, you two, and if you ever need a dog sitter or Snuffles needs a loving home, keep me in mind."

The moment the door to the stairway shut, Snuffles transformed back into a black-haired wizard whose handsome features were set in an expression of dogged devotion. Pulling a chair up beside the lounger, Sirius dropped into it and sighed.

"I think I'm in love."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit to being a dog person, which is one of the reasons why I'm so fond of Sirius. I read in an interview in which kids were asking Jo random questions, that one child asked if Sirius was a Newfoundland and she answered that he could be part, certainly, although she saw him as a mongrel. (talk about getting back at your pureblood family) That inspired my characterization of him, as did information I found, especially the epitaph.
> 
> Anyone interested in what happened during the Cami and Snuffles sleepover is cordially invited to read the one-shot A Dog's Life. :)


	17. Moonstruck

 

"Say again?" In a strange way, I found it funny that I was asking my second cousin to repeat what he'd said a second time. In fact, I was feeling very odd, almost as if I were in shock. His lips seemed to move in slow motion.

"I think I'm in love." Sirius leaned forward to say in a tone that made me lean heavily against Remus to absorb what felt like a verbal blow to my plans to help my friend find a new partner. "That was the best night of my life. Cami is the most caring, giving woman." His expression became…oh gods…moonstruck. "She gave me a bath." He held up hands to display his fingers. "She clipped my nails, and then we spent hours in front of the fireplace, watching the flames, and talking while she brushed my fur and petted me."

Elbowing Remus in the side when he began to cough to hide his amusement, I asked, "How could you talk? Bark for yes, growl for no?"

Frowning, Sirius looked down his elegant nose at me. "Dogs communicate through an extensive range of vocalizations combined with body language, I'll have you know."

"Oh, right, excuse my ignorance. I'm sure Cami's a canine Dr. Dolittle, but what did you have to talk about?"

Remus's head was in his hands. His shoulders were shaking.

Sirius said, "I don't know who the hell Dr. Do-nothing is, but Camillia's had a rough time of it, what with her bastard father disinheriting her and her ex finding a new drinking partner when she went into treatment, the rotter." After taking a deep breath, his features smoothed out, his voice marvelling, "We've got so much in common. She's never felt good enough for her family or been able to open up to another human the way she can with me."

I said, "You mean with Snuffles."

He stood. "I am Snuffles! I feel the same whether I'm a man or a dog. Half the time I like being a dog better. Less bloody complicated."

Beside me, all traces of humour had vanished from Remus's face. He said gently, "Sirius, you can't start a relationship now. It wouldn't be fair to Cami."

Bitter laughter escaped before Sirius mocked, "Oh, right, a werewolf is such a better catch."

"I never said I was a good catch," Remus replied, "but I'm not a wanted man, either."

"I want you," I said fiercely, before I turned to Sirius and employed the steely tone learnt from my mother. "All right. Cami goes jogging in the afternoons. She can take Snuffles to the park for exercise. If she asks to dog-sit again, we'll let her, but you will promise not to shift back and declare your feelings, Sirius, and you will apologise to Remus. That remark was totally uncalled for."

Nodding, Sirius faced Remus. "I was upset and out of line. Forgive me, mate?" Sirius grinned when Remus nodded and clapped him on the back. "Good old Moony, never holding grudges. Always the peacemaker."

A shadow crossed Remus's face. He shrugged. I wrapped my arms around him and told Sirius, "Yeah, well, he may not hex you when you deserve it, but I will, so watch your tongue, or I'll have it swelling up like a balloon."

"Fair enough."

Reaching into my pocket, I handed Remus a brushing/flossing mint and told Sirius, "Why don't you use a Disillusionment Charm, go down to my flat, and make some coffee. Conjure something to eat if you feel adventurous. We'll be down in a few minutes." If I hadn't been chewing my own mint when he said, “Yes, Mum” like a bratty schoolboy before following instructions, I would've said something vulgar to go along with my hand gesture. As his bark of laughter faded away, I kissed Remus good morning. Melting against him, boldly gliding my tongue along his, I told myself it was to ensure he knew without a doubt that I really, truly did want him.

"Thank you for defending me. It's not something I'm used to, but it feels good," he said a few minutes later.

I wasn't used to feeling good about caring for someone so much, but as we went to go see what Sirius had scrounged up for breakfast, I was thankful to have Remus holding my hand.

 

While the morning started off dramatically, my day at work was uneventful. None of the reports Julia and I investigated turned out to be substantiated. On the bright side, I got to climb a tree to retrieve a kitten.

The pet owner had sworn out a complaint against a neighbour, claiming that the wizard was trying to steal her cat with the aid of Dark magic. Jul had offered to use a retrieval spell, but the old woman had demanded her precious Persian be brought down by hand. I climbed up while my partner interviewed the neighbours. While I gave the musically named Magical Mr. Mistoffelees back to his owner, Julia broke the news that it was the neighbour's four year old that was luring the kitten with yarn. She liked to play with him.

I traded my Auror robes for a denim jacket before I left my cubicle at the end of the day. Declining Tom and Julia's invitation to go have a drink, I laughingly told them that as much fun as it was to watch them kiss and cuddle, I had a Gran to visit. I Apparated to an alley near the closest tube station to the Muggle neighbourhood and walked toward Gran's block of flats.

A long, sleek car pulled up beside me. The rear window lowered. I looked in to see Rory Farrell, in a suit that cost more than most people in the neighbourhood made in a month. He said, "Get in. One of my boys caught the bloke who'd been asking about you and your Gran nosing around the neighbourhood again. Jimmy was a bit…overzealous…restraining the man, but he ought to be conscious by the time we arrive."

Sliding onto the leather seat and closing the door, I asked, "Did you tie him up or handcuff him?"

A glint of admiration lit dark eyes. "Cuffed. He won't disappear handcuffed to a chair."

No he wouldn't, manacled to an object too large to Apparate. I nodded, grimly satisfied. Rory asked, "You want to do the questioning?"

Imagining Farrell's methods, I said, "Absolutely."

He offered me a drink, so I accepted a bottle of water. We chatted about inconsequential things. I asked how Audrey was doing. He shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. We parted ways. I'm currently seeing Melanie O'Neil. What about that bloke you were with at the club, Lupin?"

"I'm still with Remus."

"Good. He seemed like a decent sort, if a bit old and grey," Rory said while flashing his trademark roguish grin.

"He's in his prime and suits me perfectly." I changed the subject, asking about a few people I remembered meeting back when we used to go together. He filled me in while the driver took us to our destination. I stared. It was a Laundrette. Rory chuckled. "What were you expecting, an abandoned warehouse?"

OK, maybe I had seen a few films on Gran’s telly that gave me lurid ideas. We entered at the back. The wizard was shaking his head groggily. His looks were perfect for enquiry work; no one would remember his features. I went through his pockets, found a wand, and gave it to the muscular giant standing guard.

"Between whiles since I seen you, Tonks. You doin' good?" Jimmy smiled amiably for a bloke who regularly made grown men cry.

"Pretty good. How's your Granny? Could you break that please?"

Snapping the wand like a twig between beefy fingers, Jimmy Durbin tossed the pieces aside. "Granny's good. She fell and broke her hip a few months ago, but they gave her a new one in hospital and she's back at Bingo now."

"I remember her scones fondly, tell her hullo for me." It felt surreal to chat politely with Rory's main enforcer, but Jimmy had always been nice. The wizard gazed at us warily. I told him, "You won't be going anywhere without answering a few questions. Who sent you?"

"A client."

I darted a glance at Rory. He'd taken off his tie and suit jacket and was rolling up his shirt-sleeves. He gave a chilling smile. "Want me to persuade him to talk?"

This was rather like good Auror/bad Auror. I shook my head. "He'll come around." I began asking a barrage of questions, constantly returning to who had sent him. For someone who looked like a weakling, the agent was strong in his denial of doing more than walking through a neighbourhood.

Jimmy handed me a camera. It was a goblin super-spy, the newest model. I exposed the film and said casually, "Nice camera, it yours or the agency's?"

"Agency's." He immediately winced over the slip.

I held the expensive equipment out to Jimmy. "Would you break this next?"

"Sure."

"No!" Tugging at the restraints that kept him from Apparating, the wizard said, "I was assigned to take pictures of you and the old lady and bring them back to the office, that's all."

"What office?" I demanded. Rory nodded to Jimmy, who cracked his knuckles and moved forward.

"In the Rosier Building."

The hasty answer caused me to stare. I asked, "In September, a claim was made against the company, a little old lady pulling a disability scam. Why weren't you there to get a picture?"

His eyes darted around. Seeing no escape, the bloke admitted, "I was there. I took pictures of you."

"On whose orders?" Rory demanded.

I wasn't surprised to hear, “Rosier himself.” I told the wizard to behave before asking Rory, "Would you mind keeping him restrained for another hour? I've got to get to the bottom of this, and I don't want him ruining my surprise visit."

"Consider it done. Jimmy will keep him company, won't you, mate?"

Broad shoulders shrugged. "I'll find some way to pass the time."

The wizard smiled nervously. "I play draughts."

Back in the car, Rory proved Aurors weren't the only ones who used silence to get answers. I said, "Rosier's my ex-fiancée. I'm not sure what he's playing at, but I'm going to find out."

"Could be that's just what he wants."

My shoulders slumped. "Could be." Another thought jerked me upright. “Gran!"

"I'll stop by and give your excuses." A boyish smile crossed his face. "She still baking those pukka biscuits and watching  _EastEnders_?"

"Yeah, and if you're lucky, you'll get the biscuits without having to watch the programme." I smiled. "Thanks for everything. I owe you one."

"My pleasure."

He exited the car in front of Gran's and told the driver to deliver me downtown. I slid out. "Thanks again, but my way's faster."

Rory called when I said goodbye and started to walk away, "Don't worry about owing me forever, Nym. I'll think of some way you can repay me."

A couple of teenaged girls sitting on a bench nearby had been watching us. Hearing the Irish accent that could make a café menu sound insinuating, they broke into giggles. I shook my head and kept walking.

Apparating to the Rosier Building, I breezed by the security troll in the entry with an airy, "Hi, Sendak, I'm going up to see the boss." He scratched his head, but allowed me to pass. I stepped into the Victorian lift that Evan's family favoured over Floos and smiled politely at a non-human resources manager I remembered meeting at a Christmas party. He clearly wondered what I was doing there.

Once out of the gilded lift and striding toward the coveted corner office, I told the icy blonde executive assistant, "Wotcher, Catherine, Evan's expecting me."

She opened her mouth to protest until my expression convinced her to rise and nod. "I'll let Mr. Rosier know that you've arrived."

"I’ll do it myself." My smile was hard as I pushed through the double doors and entered the posh shrine to the god Mammon. Evan had always chuckled when I'd half-jokingly accused him of worshipping money, but he hadn't refuted it.

Without looking up from his desk, my ex drawled, "Come in, Nymphadora. Make yourself comfortable while I finish this report. You'll note that the sofa hasn't changed. I told Priscilla that it had too many good memories for me to let it go."

I heard Catherine's sharp intake of breath as she closed the doors. I knew that the comment would rapidly become company gossip. Avoiding the leather sofa, and the  _couple_  of memories I had no wish to recall, I slouched in a chair and admired my manicure. Shankira, of the shop down the street, had a sister who did nails. I'd allowed her to shape and buff mine.

"I always wondered how your hands could be so slender and yet so capable."

Meeting the blue eyes of a man that could teach Rory a thing or three about innuendo, I smirked. "Good genes."

His lips curved upwards. Elegant in a charcoal business suit, he stood and moved around the desk to sit in the chair next to mine. He shifted to look me full on. "I see Perkins was finally obvious enough for your Muggle friends to apprehend him."

"Then you admit you sent him to Gran's just to get me over here?"

Amusement warmed his wintry gaze. "Of course."

My eyes narrowed. "Your owls fly off and not return or something?"

"Some things you don't put on paper."

I was getting tired of his cryptic Slytherin act. "What do you—?"

His wand was out before my lips had finished moving. As I sat, body rigid from the  _Petrificus Totalus_ , staring straight into his face, he said, "I want you to listen to me. I'm in a spot of trouble, and my own agents won't do. After all our recent meetings, I realised you'd never willingly take me on as a client, so I arranged to…as you so eloquently put it...get you over here."

Uncharacteristically mussing blond hair with agitated fingers, Evan unbuttoned his sleeve to show me his inner left forearm. "Look, no Dark Mark." He smiled ruefully. "I've been called ruthless, and I've never denied it, but I won't risk meeting the same end as my father." His fingertips traced the mouth that had been frozen before I could finish the last word. I wished I could bite his finger when it began rubbing my bottom lip. "You almost made me want to be a better man, to change with the love of a good woman."

For a tense moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Thankfully, he pulled back. "My leadership of Rosier Industries is being challenged. One of my board members is threatening to give the Ministry proof that I've been colluding with Dark wizards unless I step down." He said dryly, "I doubt they'd agree I've merely formed a lucrative and politic limited partnership with a special interest group."

I'd bet the group had a special interest in bringing Voldemort back to power.

Evan said, "If this proof is not recovered, an unfortunate audit of finances will result and both the company and my position jeopardized."

I was supposed to care why, exactly? He answered my unspoken question. "In return for your assistance, I'll forgo bringing to a certain group's attention the fact that my ex-fiancée has been snooping into their business on at least three occasions, which will protect your Gran, your parents, your uncle and your werewolf from paying the price of your spying."

The Body-Bind Curse had petrified me in a position that Evan used to his advantage, brushing my parted lips with his. "You temporarily convinced me that you were Priscilla, but something bothered me." His hand wrapped around my neck. "When I said that only one woman had ever said she loved me, I saw pity flash through my fiancée's eyes, and that is an emotion Prissy feels for no one other than herself."

His thumb pressed against my throat, feeling the rapid pulse. He smiled like a cat playing with a mouse. "I took Priscilla out to lunch as promised and slipped her Veritaserum." His lips grazed my cheek before breathing in my ear, "I asked her point blank if she'd ever told me that she loved me." Helpless to respond with anything but a fixed stare, my heart jolted when he looked into my eyes and murmured, "She said, “No.” His mouth settled over mine. I couldn't help but think it must be like kissing a shop mannequin. I was just as unresponsive. His fingers sifted through my hair. "I've missed your colour and passion, Nymphadora," he whispered before kissing me again.

"This stupid cow told me that you were unavailable.  _Evan!_ " Priscilla's voice rang with irritation and then horror. I could imagine her and Catherine gaping, bug-eyed.

Evan said, "I'll be with you in a few minutes, my dear, when my meeting is over." He stood. "Fetch her some water, Catherine, and shut the door behind you."

They filed out silently, more like automatons than I was in my present condition. Evan sat in the chair across from me once more and said, "That was poetic justice, I suppose." He shrugged. "Before I counter the curse, let me remind you that should you refuse to co-operate, or attempt to attack me in some display of feminine outrage, it is the ones you care about who will pay dearly for it."

When I sat glaring in front of him, Evan handed me an invitation. My shaky fingers couldn't hold it, so he opened it and said, "If you've already made plans for Bonfire Night, break them."


	18. Bad Moon Rising

 

I felt like a cheater. I'd been on too many decoy jobs, listened to Lisa, Cami, and Uncle Morty discussing too many matrimonial enquiry cases not to notice the similarities. At the beginning of an affair, the cheat, a.k.a. “subject,” showers their spouse with attention out of guilt. In the couple of days since I'd made a devil's bargain with Evan, I'd felt so guilty over choosing not to tell Remus that I'd made dinner for him twice, painstakingly conjuring his favourite foods and dressing attractively as possible. I'd even cleared away all the clutter in my flat.

"Something smells good."

I looked up from the simple steaks I'd conjured, returning Remus’s smile. Leaving the food, I threw my arms around his neck and said throatily, "Yeah, it's you." I kissed him, wanting to forget everything except the way he felt and tasted.

Remus laughingly groaned. "You'll spoil your appetite if you keep devouring me."

I would happily have made a meal of his kisses, but I heard his stomach rumble. "When it comes to you, I'm always hungry."

He chuckled and asked about my day. I didn't want to think of the speculative looks Tom and Julia had begun giving me due to the number of times I’d begged off lunch to “check on Gran,” so I shrugged and said, "Loads of false reports of Dark wizardry as usual. What about yours?"

Remus answered after we sat down at the table and he'd eaten an appreciative bite of steak. "I'm translating copies of Marcus Terentius Varro's  _De Lingua Latina_ , on the Latin language, books five through ten." He grinned. "Barmy wizard wants to compare my work with another scholar's. I don't have another client lined up, so I hope to win the job of authenticating and translating one of Ovid's  _Tristia,_ sad poems."

Male competition wasn't reserved just for Quidditch and Darts matches. I boasted after we'd eaten a few more bites, "I learned a bit of Latin myself today." Remus waggled his brows while he chewed, so I took that as an invitation to share and said, "I saw it on a sundial.  _Horas non numero nisi serenas."_ His smile encouraged me to bat my eyelashes and say, "I number only the shining hours. Proud of me, professor?"

He laughed at my vamp-y pronunciation of professor. "Just as much as if you'd translated it yourself. Who did it for you?"

I feigned indignation. "What? Maybe I went to the library and pored over mouldy old—" Interrupted by a bark of laughter, I admitted, "Tom. He told me a good excuse too. _Canis meus id comedit_. Now I can tell Gulch my dog ate it when I haven't done my paperwork." It felt good to see Remus looking so content. Keeping him that way was worth bending a few rules and scruples.

After dinner, I took off his shoes and socks while he said, "No, you're not really going to, I was joking, not…oh, that feels rather nice…I suppose it wouldn't hurt to practice."

Thinking of how interesting massaging the pads of his toes would be when he had paws instead of feet, I continued to sit on the sofa with his feet in my lap, massaging gently. After every part of his feet had been rubbed, pressed, or just fondled, I stroked up his calf. "You were a lot hairier at the full moon."

Head resting on a pillow, eyes half-closed, he smiled. "Do you mind?"

"Not me. I like changes."

His smile widened. "Good. Speaking of changing, let's do one in topics of conversation. Emmeline owled and assured me that Snuffles will be welcome Bonfire Night, since we'll be having our private bonfire outside while watching the fireworks reflected in the Thames, across the river from the crowds and the pop music."

I wasn't lying when I said, "I'm sorry I'll have to miss it." I lied afterwards. "I got pegged for duty."

Remus swung his legs off the sofa, leaning forward to repeat, "Duty on Bonfire Night? What for, Dark wizards misusing Muggle Roman candles and sparklers?" His disbelieving laughter rang out. "That's absurd." He reached for my hands. "I think this is the perfect time to take a sickie."

I wanted to, seriously considered calling off the whole deal to spend the night watching fireworks away from the crowds with Remus's arms around me. The look on my face must've shown my internal conflict, because he kissed my forehead gently. "I understand about duty, although selfishly I'd prefer you to be with me."

"I could come as soon as I get off shift." When he nodded, I felt so awful my lips trembled.

"Now I've made you feel badly about being dedicated to your work. Don't be upset, it's all right," he soothed with words before brushing his lips across mine. I sank into the embrace, tempted to spill the whole mess and ask if he thought I was doing the right thing. His arms tightened around me protectively. Suddenly, I couldn't take the risk. He might interfere, and if Remus got hurt, then everything I planned would be for nothing. If he got hurt, I couldn't bear it.

I stiffened when he murmured, "What did you say? Something about me being hurt? I'm disappointed, and I'll miss you, but don't worry about my feelings being hurt. I know our being separated isn't your choice."

My stomach lurched. I tried to distract him and myself by pulling out his shirt and placing my hands on his abdomen. Sliding my palms upward, I asked, "Do you think you'll enjoy this when you're a wolf?"

Remus's eyes became heavy. "Very much."

I stroked his chest, exploring it in a way that was only possible on a human male. He finally clasped my wrists and gently lifted my hands from his skin, even while kissing me deeply. I sank my fingers into his hair and tried to pour my feelings into the kiss. Pulling back at last, Remus chuckled raggedly. "I don't doubt for a moment how much you'll miss me."

I kissed him again, hoping it didn't feel desperate. I sighed against his lips. "Don't ever doubt how much I care about you."

 

The next day, Jul lifted her eyebrows after we'd investigated a case, and I told her I needed to drop by my Gran's to pick up something. "That's the third time in as many days, Tonks. Is she feeling all right?"

My smile felt tight. "Sure, she's just been lonely, missing my Granddad. I'll be back before Gulch realises I'm gone."

Once in the neighbourhood, I didn't go to Gran's. I walked past her block of flats to a small shopping centre. Inside  _Jimmy's Pizza_ , the owner was sitting in a back booth, enjoying a late lunch. He lifted his beer in greeting. "I ordered the works; have a slice."

I wasn't hungry, but I hadn't eaten anything that day and low blood sugar wouldn't help me any. Smiling at the teddy-bear looking man who could become a grizzly when needed, I accepted a slice and took a bite. "It's really good. Ever think of starting a chain, doing this…er…full time?"

Baby blue eyes twinkled. "Nah. No fun in that."

I snorted, which made Jimmy grin like a big kid. Oh well, at least he enjoyed his work. Since I was taking advantage of his true vocation and his boss's willingness to do an old friend a favour, I couldn't be hypocritically disapproving. I removed a piece of paper out of my trouser pocket and slid it across the table. He palmed it, grinning. "This is like something off telly." Scanning the information briefly, broad shoulders rose and fell. "Easy peasy."

Duran Duran's  _Hungry like the Wolf_ played in the background while we finished the pizza. I couldn't help but remember the music video I'd seen at Gran's and imagine Remus singing the words.

"He says he smells like he sounds. D'you know what that means?" Jimmy asked.

I tried not to blush. Jimmy was referring to the song, and I was thinking of Remus being on the hunt after me. Taking a gulp of fizzy drink, I said, "Hot." He nodded, returning my wave when I said goodbye.

 

Julia stopped by my cubicle at the end of the shift. I asked, "You and Tom have plans tomorrow night?"

She held her hand over her heart and recited:

_Remember, remember_

_The fifth of November_

_Gunpowder treason and plot_

_We see no reason_

_Why gunpowder treason_

_Should ever be forgot!_

I clapped softly, imitating her restrained pure-blood mother. Julia smirked. "Muggle Studies may have taught about Guy Fawkes trying to blow up King and Parliament back in 1605, but I just appreciate the excuse to have ruddy great bonfires and fireworks!"

"Your patriotism is inspiring," Tom said, walking up to spin Julia around and plant a kiss on her lips. We all laughed. He asked, "You on for a drink, Tonks?"

"Not this time, I'm meeting Remus." His concerned gaze made me tense, knowing that I'd given him and Julia reason to worry.

Brows drawn, Tom asked, "Is everything all right? You've been distracted the last couple of days."

I waved the question off. "It's your imagination. I'm fine." Inwardly, I cringed at sounding like a stereotypical cheater fending off suspicion by saying it was just the accuser's imagination.

"You sure?"

No, I wasn’t, but I wouldn’t drag my friends into danger. “Yeah. Goodnight.”

I spent the evening quietly with Remus, feigning interest in a book while I tried to memorise every expression that crossed his face.

 

The next afternoon, I kissed Remus goodbye after our time in the park with Snuffles and Apparated to the Ministry. Alone with my paperwork, I actually spent a few hours completing the reports I'd been procrastinating on and tidied my desk. That in itself was probably a dead giveaway to my true state of mind. Whenever I felt in complete control of my life, I let clutter build. If I felt overwhelmed and stressed, I ruthlessly curtailed it to feel like I had power over  _something_.

Before leaving, I stopped by the ladies' lavatory on the Atrium floor, morphing my features to match those of Catherine, Evan's assistant. Inside a stall, I transfigured my denims into cashmere trousers, kept my black turtleneck, and topped it off with a cashmere coat that had formerly been my leather jacket. Arranging blonde hair in a French twist, I nodded to my reflection and strode out.

After travelling by Floo and then catching a Squire Cab, I walked sedately across a park known for its Victorian splendour. I meandered through the well-dressed and mannerly crowd viewing fire driven street theatre and listening to live music from professional groups. The atmosphere was relaxed and expectant at the same time.

Close to the Victorian bandstand where lanterns were already being passed out in preparation for a moonlight parade, a party of wizards and witches stood elegantly attired, chatting while enjoying champagne and each other's elite company.

Evan looked up as I approached. "Catherine."

"What do you want?" Priscilla snapped, tightening her grasp on her fiancé's arm. "Can't business wait? Must you bother him outside the office?"

Her white fur made me think of a territorial polar bear. I said deferentially, "I'm sorry for the intrusion. The matter will only take a few moments to resolve, and then I'll leave you to enjoy your evening."

Prissy visibly relaxed. "All right, then, if you must."

The corners of Evan's lips were twitching. "We must, dear, we must." He steered me away from the group. "This is the first time I've ever been tempted to kiss an employee."

I pulled my arm away. "Fight the urge and give me the envelope."

He smiled, eyebrows winging upwards at my snappish tone. "Did you skip dinner? Hunger always made you sarcy. After your task is completed, let me take you to our favourite restaurant with the private booths."

"Take Priscilla."

"She wouldn't take advantage of the privacy," Evan replied, his tone heavy with meaning.

"I wouldn't either." The stony certainty in my voice made him shrug. I accepted the envelope with a Gringotts draft inside.

He pulled off a glove to run a finger down my face. "Until later, my pretty chameleon."

I jerked my head back, turning away without response. Evan was the type who had to have the last word. I let him have it, hoping to give him reason to choke on it. Across the park, I paused to take out a Foe-Glass. Inside the compact-sized mirror, shadows moved and two men's faces came into focus. Average looks, height, and build, the two reminded me of ferrets. How untrusting Evan was. I put away the glass, smirking.

Sprinting across the street, I jumped into a Squire Cab, saying to the elderly couple who had just entered on the other side, "Someone attempted to steal my bag in the park. May I please share your cab? Thanks." Without giving them a chance to answer, I told the cabbie, "I'll go wherever they're going, but step on it, please."

The cab jerked away from the kerb, squeezing between Muggle black and whites. To the couple's consternation, I transfigured the cashmere of my coat and trousers into tight leather. My ladylike shoes were changed into chunky boots.

"Are you going to a costume party, dear?" the woman asked.

I said, "Yes, I am. What do you think of my mask?"

My features shifted into those of a teen with a round, pale face, full lips, and slanted dark eyes. After watching me change my hair into long, inky strands with crimson streaks throughout, the elderly man said, "You need one of those eyebrow bobs, perhaps a nose ring too."

I used an Illusion Charm. The old witch shook her head. "Not enough earrings." She waved her wand.

Admiring the illusory piercings in the cab's rear-view mirror, I said, "Thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it," the man replied with a regal nod as the cab halted in front of their town home.

"You look splendidly awful," the woman approved with a smile, opening the door.

I halted the wizard's attempt to pay, thanking him for the ride and directing the cabbie to drive on. He dropped me off at an enormous park that was crammed with Muggles out to enjoy the bonfire and the festive atmosphere before the night sky became filled with silver crackling stars and other dazzling fireworks. Passing the food and refreshment stalls; I headed for the funfair rides set up at one end of the common. A man in a long beige trench coat, of all the cliché things, stood gazing around looking uncomfortable near the Ferris wheel.

"Want ter give 'er a go, guv'nor?" I asked.

The man startled and looked around before saying, "Are you speaking to me, young woman?"

I dropped the ridiculous accent. "Yes, Yaxley, I am. You've got something for me, so let's take a ride."

"I say, this is very irregular." Yaxley’s purse-lipped disapproval reminded me of my old Transfiguration professor. McGonagall had always looked like she suffered from irregularity too.

I rolled my eyes. "Done this often, have you?" Ignoring his protests at my cheek, I grabbed his arm and pulled him into line, loudly declaring, "Fine, I'll ride the stupid baby ride, Dad, but then I'm off to find my friends!" Sneering at the parents in front of me that were regarding their well-behaved children with new appreciation, I leaned close to Yaxley and said, "I'm going to do a few tests once we're seated, make sure that the papers are originals and that they haven't been copied before we do our trade."

The blackmailing wizard looked offended. "I may be Slytherin, but my word is still my bond. If Rosier had authorised an executive pay rise to allow me to pay the exorbitant recent…dues…required by the party we both support, I would not have been forced to resort to such tactics."

I knew Kingsley and Emmeline would find this information useful. While we waited to ride, I tried to think of a way to tell them without sharing how I came by it. Maybe an anonymous source.

"I don't like this." Yaxley's grip was white knuckled as the Ferris wheel lifted our seat into the air. I rocked to make the bench swing more freely. He gasped. "Stop that!"

I leaned forward. "Look at that view, all the lights, and the people like little ants."

"Filthy Muggles, more like, and stop doing that before you overset us!"

Sitting back and taking the case he offered, I opened it while saying, "Funny how you have the gall to call Muggles filthy. Keep your knickers on; gravity keeps the seats from turning upside down. Now be quiet and let me work." I cast detection spells, found no trace of a double cross, and promptly shrank the file until it fit into a tiny spell-warded canister. Slipping it into my pocket, I took out the Foe-Glass and saw that the ferrets were watching from the ground below.

"If you're satisfied, give me my money."

I was satisfied, and gave Yaxley an Illusion-Charmed envelope that made his face soften with relief. He slipped it inside his coat. "Tell Rosier it was nothing personal, and he should be more careful in his staff."

Once the Ferris wheel circled down, I hopped out and immediately took off running. A person behind me cried out—undoubtedly hit with a hex. I darted through the crowd, morphing my features back to normal as I zigzagged my way through Muggles that fell to a variety of Impediment Jinxes. I led my pursuers across the common and into a dark alley.

" _Umph!"_

Foe-detection aids don't show loitering Muggles. I whirled to see Rory taking out the lead agent with some martial arts moves while Jimmy hit the one bringing up the rear with a plank from a skip. A third wizard entered the alley. Shite, I hadn't seen him. When he went for his wand, I reacted by casting a Disarming Charm with such force that he was knocked backwards several metres before lying still. I surreptitiously used my wand to verify that our assailants were in no need of urgent medical attention.

"Any more after you?" Jimmy asked hopefully.

"No, just these. Sorry to waste your skills, but I didn't know how many would be put on my tail."

Rory's smile gleamed white in the shadows. "I never saw you take out the last bloke. I'm impressed, and look forward to collecting my favours, Nym." He added with a chuckle, "Nice gear."

I glanced down at the leather. "Thanks." I handed him the bespelled canister. "Deliver this to the bank for me, and if you value your handsome face, don't try to open it."

Eyeing the small cylinder with interest, Rory nodded. "I'll put it Uncle Colin's safe for tonight. He's throwing a party with champagne, oysters, and jazz down at the Quay. You're welcome to join us." His smile grew wicked. "Jimmy here doesn't have a date."

"That's too bad, but I do." The look of surprise on the larger man's face made me laugh. "Have fun burning your effigy."

"I thought we were burning Guy Fawkes," Jimmy said with a wink.

I chuckled and declined a ride, walking down the street in the opposite direction before Apparating to the Victorian park. A display of fireworks lit up the skyline and drew ooohhh's and ahhh's from the crowd gazing up with smiles of awe. Transfiguring my clothing back into understated elegance and my form into Catherine's once more, I headed toward the wizards who sat on plush chairs to look aloft. Over the sound of rockets, Evan heard me call his name and strode toward me.

While pyrotechnics exploded overhead, he bent to ask, "Do you have it?"

I handed him an envelope. "Yaxley said you need to be more careful of your staff."

Nodding grimly, Evan opened the envelope and said blankly, "This is my draft. What's going on?"

"I gave Yaxley my invitation to the party, since I don't believe in rewarding extortion. You got your money back, because I have no intention of giving the evidence to you."

He grabbed my arm in a bruising grip. "Where is it?"

"Someplace safe,” I promised. "Unlike Yaxley, I don't have plans to use it against you. I've always known you were a collaborator, and I never thought of turning you in."

"How Hufflepuff of you, but there's always a price. What's yours?" Before I could speak, he laughed shortly. "I know already. You want my silence about your investigations. Clever girl." Tearing the draft in two, he inclined his head. "This round goes to you, my dear. Next time will be a different story."

"There won't be a next time," I said, turning to walk away. I'd forgotten about his need to have the last word.

I paused but didn't look back when he drawled, "There's always a next time."

 

After leaving the park and transfiguring my clothing and appearance back to normal, I walked quickly to a Floo station and returned home. Inside my dark flat, I hopped around, prying off my boots before taking off my jacket and pulling my turtleneck over my head, carelessly tossing everything onto the floor. The adrenaline rush I'd been on all night had worn off, and I was shaking in reaction. If something had gone wrong—but it hadn't, so I took a deep breath and said aloud as I moved to engage an illumination orb, "It’s OK, everything turned out OK. Take a shower, wash away what happened, and go see Remus."

The orb near the sofa went from dark to bright. I froze.

"You don't have to go anywhere to see me. I'm right here," Remus said. "I've been here for hours, ever since I decided to drop by the Ministry and ask when you were getting off duty." He smiled grimly. "Security regretted to inform me that you weren't on rotation and had left the building at an unspecified time." He stood. "Not half as sorry as I was to hear that I'd been lied to."

"Remus.” How could I explain?

He closed the distance between us, grasped my shoulders and drew me close. Standing there in just a bra and jeans, I moved closer to his warmth. His acute nose began drawing in deep breaths. "What have you been doing?" The hurt and anger in his eyes made me want to cry. He smiled mirthlessly. "I know who you've been doing it with."

 


	19. Shadow Moon

 

 

_Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive…_

One of Mum's pithy little quotes always seemed to pop into my head at the exact moment I was feeling guilty, serving its purpose to make me feel even worse. Looking into Remus's set face, I pleaded, "Let me explain."

"Explain why I smell Rosier and Farrell's scents on your skin? I'm listening."

Not since he'd accused me of letting Evan put his hands on me for old-time's sake had his tone been so darkly intimidating. I swallowed hard. "Evan is the one who sent the agent to ask questions about Gran. When the bloke came around again, Rory's…friend…caught him. I went to the Rosier building to have it out, and learned he'd set all that up to get me there." Remus's features became grim when I said, "He had proof that we'd infiltrated those gatherings and threatened to tell if I didn't do a job for him."

"What job?"

"Retrieve information that in Ministry hands could lose him the company. I was supposed to hand over the draft and return with the documents after I verified that they were originals and hadn't been copied."

His brow creased. "What about Farrell?"

In a small voice, I admitted, "I asked for his help, knowing Evan would probably try to double cross me before I could double cross him."

Remus said harshly, "You asked for his help. Not mine. A Muggle criminal's." Backing me up, he bent his head and inhaled, asking, "How will you repay him,  _Nym?"_

"I owe a favour, that's all. He and his mate Jimmy took care of two of the blokes following me and the evidence." I tried to keep my voice steady. "I gave Evan back his draft and made a new deal. His silence for mine." Lifting my trembling fingers, I touched Remus’s cheek. "I'm sorry I lied to you, I should've told you, but I was so scared you'd be hurt."

"Hurt?" Remus's hands gripped my waist. I gasped when he lifted me. "I'm stronger than you think." I believed it. He wasn't even breaking a sweat, and his arms showed no signs of fatigue. His face twisted, looking into mine. "I'm hurt that you didn't consider how I'd feel when I found out you’d placed yourself in danger, and that you thought another man would be better help."

Abruptly, he lowered me to the floor. "Do you think he'd be a better partner as well?" Pinning me against the wall with his hands and body, Remus's lips pressed mine roughly. He tasted like desire and danger, hot and irresistible. I wrapped myself around him.

"No, no, I only want you," I said frantically, as his hands glided over my skin possessively with none of the gentleness displayed before. Remus's mouth captured mine, demanding a response I gave freely.

My breath caught when he pulled back to ask bluntly, "If I carry you into the bedroom, will you prove it to me?"

It was hard to think clearly. I wasn't ready to take that step, but I couldn't bear it if he doubted how much I cared about him. "Yes."

His eyes flared with need, even while he stepped back. "Why?"

I swayed toward him. "You…you know why."

"Tell me."

My breathing was as rapid as my heartbeat. "I care about you so much. Why are you acting like this? What do you want from me?"

His smile was so sad, tears sprang to my eyes. Cupping my face in his hands, he kissed my forehead and said quietly, "I want you to tell me the real reason you kept everything from me. Until then, I'm sorry, but it’s best we didn't see each other."

“No.” I’d done everything to save him, not lose him.

It was no consolation that he looked more wretched than he did at the full moon. At the front door, he turned. "I hope to see you soon."

I remained staring blankly after he left. Why wasn't it enough that I cared? I'd said that I was sorry, didn't Remus believe me? Long fought insecurities clawed at my heart. Once again, I wasn't good enough. I didn't measure up. It hurt so badly, there was only one way I could think of to cope. I took my wand, conjured a communication fire in the fireplace, and waited for a familiar head to appear before crying, "Mum, can I come home?"

 

Waking up in my old bed with gritty eyes and a stuffy nose, I stared up at the canopy and thought with black humour of Bertha Jorkins. At least my eyelet was lavender. Sitting up, I ran a hand over my face and debated pulling the covers over my head and going back to sleep, preferably for a hundred years or so.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

I threw the man in the doorway a sceptical look. "Only in London could I be compared to sunshine, Dad."

He chuckled. "It is rather overcast today. High probability of rain later."

Great, maybe I could stand with my mouth open in the back garden and drown. Morbidly amused at the thought, my lips curved while my father said, "That's better. Come to the kitchen for breakfast, your mother's been conjuring for hours."

Wonderful, now I'd have to stuff down food I didn't want or hurt her feelings. Why had I come home again? I looked into Dad's sympathetic face. Oh yeah, unconditional love. "Sure, I'll hop into the shower and be right down."

Under the spray, I realised I'd forgotten a flannel and shrugged, reaching for the soap. The feel of skin against skin reminded me of all the different ways Remus had touched me. I yanked open the shower curtain and marched over to the linen cupboard and snatched a flannel off the shelf.

Downstairs a short while later, my mood changed from melancholy into something more comfortable: a nark. Dad appraised my sullen expression as I picked at food and smiled across at Mum. "This brings back memories of teen holidays past, doesn't it, luv?"

"Indeed. I do hope she'll refrain from oversetting my chairs or slamming doors." The dry note in Mum's voice brought out my reluctant smile. She patted my hand. "We're always glad to have you, darling, and hope you know that regardless of the circumstances, we're here for you."

"Thanks, Mum."

Dad asked frankly, "Did you break up with that bloke we never met? Remus?"

I shrugged. "Yes, no, oh hell, I don't know."

"Language, Nymphadora." Mum arched an eyebrow. "Rather unusual, not to be aware of the exact state of a relationship."

I stood, throwing down my serviette. "Thanks for making me feel even more stupid and worthless, Mum. If I knew what he wanted from me, don't you think I'd give it to him?"

"I assume you're speaking of something other than sex."

My face burned. I yelped, "Mother, how could you?" Slamming the door on the way out would've been more satisfying if I hadn't seen the look my parents exchanged.

Apparating to my Gran's, I marched up the stairs to get some tea and sympathy. "I already felt bad enough without them laughing at me," I grumbled, while Gran placed a mug of tea and a plate of biscuits on the low table in front of me. Straightening from my slouched position, I sipped the comforting liquid and waited expectantly for her to soothe my sore feelings.

She smiled. "Your father always slammed the door too. He got that from me. Your grandfather was the quiet, sulking type. Drove me spare, sometimes, the way he'd go distant and broody." Dark blue eyes similar to mine twinkled. "My husband was always susceptible to PDAs whenever I wanted to bring him out of one of his silent treatments."

I choked on a gulp of tea, wheezing, eyes watering, while Gran patted my back. I asked hoarsely, "Public displays of affection?"

Her mouth curved in a naughty smile. "Physical displays of affection. Have you tried that on your Remus? He seems the slow to anger, brooding sort to me." I stuffed an entire biscuit into my mouth, making a non-committal 'Mmmm' in response. Gran chuckled. "Well, since your problem doesn't seem to be on a physical level, perhaps you'd best examine the emotional one, dear."

The doorbell rang. I jumped up to get it, heart leaping. It was Rory. He laughed at my crestfallen expression. "I thought you'd be happier to see me, Nym. Shall we take a walk?"

I turned to Gran. "I'll be back in a little while." She nodded, wished Rory a good morning and switched on her telly.

Downstairs, once we began to walk along the pavement, Rory asked, "Why so dejected? You pulled off an impressive job last night. I wish you worked for me." When I shrugged, he asked, "That guy you're going with, Remus the ancient Roman, did he find out? Did you catch hell or something?"

"Or something." I changed the topic. "Did you put the canister into the safe deposit box?"

"I did. Not before one of Uncle Colin's guys tried to open it, though. Good thing he always wanted to be called Scarface." When I snickered, he nodded. "That's better. I was getting flashbacks to you at fifteen and feeling like a nervous eighteen year old again."

We both smiled at the absurdity, walking in companionable silence for a while before returning to Gran's. Rory said, "Don't forget to change your password at the bank. As the priest said to the parishioner, 'lead me not into temptation'."

His raffish grin made me smile. "I won't. Thanks again, Rory."

"I hope you're still thankful when I get around to collecting my favours." He winked "Don't worry, it won't be anything dodgy."

I smirked. "Want me to check out your new girlfriend?"

He mirrored my smirk. "Already checked her out. Melanie's fine as five pence." He held out a hand. I shook it and then kissed his cheek.

When I re-entered Gran's flat, she said, "Rory wears the loveliest cologne, doesn't he? If I was Remus, though, I wouldn't like it."

I plopped down on the sofa and put a cushion over my face. "Remus knows full well that I don't care about anyone else but him."

"Care?"

Hitting the pillow repeatedly with my fist didn't make my frustration lessen. I told Gran, "Thanks for the tea, but I've got some errands I need to do." Stalking toward the door, I whirled around to demand, "I'd like to know what's so bloody wrong with caring about someone? Why isn't that good enough?"

She regarded me with a funny little smile. "Think about it, dear. I'm sure the answer will come in time."

I spent the rest of the day organising my flat and stewing about Remus. By the time the sun started to set, the place was oppressively tidy, and I was ready to hex somebody. When a knock sounded on my door, I yanked it open. "Yeah?"

It was Cami. "Er…Remus is supposed to walk Snuffles at the park, remember? Are you going to go?"

All of a sudden, I started to cry. My friend put an arm around me while I spilled an edited version of the story. She said bracingly, "Go talk to him."

I sniffed. "No, not yet, he said we shouldn't see each other."

When Cami said she'd give my greetings to our doggie pal, she suggested, "You could always go as somebody else."

A shower and wardrobe sorting expedition later, a nice old lady followed a young woman to the park. Sitting on a bench a safe yet good viewing distance away, I pretended to flip the pages of a book while Cami played with Snuffles and I watched Remus read a book of his own. My chest began to ache when his lips tilted at the corners over something he'd read, but I couldn't move. My breath hitched with longing. My throat ached more with every passing minute. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew my loosely tied headscarf onto the common. My stomach sank when a big, black dog ran over to it. Sniffing it, he raised his head to look at me, picked it up with his teeth and came bounding over with the silk.

When I reached out to take the scarf, the mutt growled and backed away. I snapped, "Do you know what would improve your disposition? Neutering." Snuffles snarled and then barked furiously. I stood when Remus left his bench and began walking in our direction. I stomped my foot. "Stay out of this, you interfering fleabag!" The moment he ran toward Remus with my scarf, I Disapparated.

Over the next few days, my help was specifically requested so many times to assist in suspect questioning that Julia and Tom finally cornered me in my cubicle. Julia demanded, "What's going on?"

My brows lifted. Tom said, "Don't try and tell us nothing, because Mabley, who's been around since Merlin, said to tell you he'd never seen anybody do 'bad Auror' better, and he'd ask for  _Tonks the Terrible_  the next time he had a hard nut to crack!"

I shrugged. "I've just been channelling a little negative energy, that's all."

They looked at each other incredulously. Jul slapped her hand down on my cleared desk and shouted, "Look at your office! Gulch told Connolly his desk should emulate yours, for Merlin's sake! You ask for assignments that take you out of our rotation, and you make Dark wizards cry. Cut the crap and tell us what's driven you round the twist!"

My face scrunched while I tried to say offhandedly, "I kind of went behind Remus's back to do something, and when he found out, he said caring about him wasn't a good enough reason, so we're not seeing each other."

Julia was livid. "Bastard!"

Tom said, "Hold on, that doesn't sound right. What did he tell you exactly?"

I made myself think about that awful night. "He said…we shouldn't see each other until I told him the real reason why I did what I did."

"Caring isn't good enough? What an arsehole!" Julia’s face flushed with anger.

Tom slipped his arm around her waist. "Would it be good enough for you?"

She looked as mystified as I was, and then a look of comprehension dawned. After hugging me, Julia said, "Go talk to him again, and maybe think things over instead of terrorising the bad guys, OK?"

I nodded to make her happy. After I got home, placed the  _Daily Prophet_  into its recycle bin and ate my Thai takeaway meal, I impulsively decided to walk to the Black Wolf tavern just in case Remus stopped by. Making sure that I looked as plain and inconspicuous as magic and beige clothing could make me, I headed out.

Inside the tavern, I clutched my book and ordered a drink at the bar, taking it with me to a booth diagonal from the one occupied by a wizard in shabby robes with grey streaked brown hair and a face that made my hands tremble. Ignoring the drops of beer spilt on the tabletop, I sat down and pretended to read. Covertly, I scrutinised handsome features. He looked a bit thinner, and had a few care lines more than accounted for by the phase of the moon. Did he miss me? Was Sirius making sure that he ate, got enough rest, and took care of himself? I missed him so much. He looked up. I hastily averted my gaze.

"I believe this is yours."

Remus stood beside my booth, holding out my scarf. I shook my head. He said, "You forgot to change your eyes. Think about that slip…and other things…soon, please. I miss you."

Tears rolled down my cheeks. He murmured, "Stubborn, stubborn, Nymphadora."

I sat clutching the scarf and crying after he left. Why did everybody keep asking me to think about things that hurt? Why was Remus pushing me? Why couldn't he be happy with the way things were? Obviously, once again, what I had to offer wasn't good enough, and that was that. There was only one thing left for me to do; make my way to an off-license, buy a bottle of Firewhiskey and go home to get royally pissed.

During the early hours of the morning, I had a dream that I was holding hands with Remus, strolling across the park. He pulled away. The moment his fingers no longer touched mine, the colour drained out of the world, leaving everything the most horrible shades of grey.

Shivering with sweat, I awoke, lurching to sit up in bed before clutching my pounding head with both hands. I fumbled on the floor beside the bed for the Nauseous No More potion I’d stashed there for this purpose and chugged it down. Dragging myself to the shower, I propped my abused body against the tile and allowed the water to wash over me. When I felt remotely human, I stepped out and pulled on a towelling robe. After a glance in the bathroom mirror, I blinked, stared, and then screamed.

"Tonks, what's the matter? Answer me or I'm coming in! I hope you're decent!" I heard Morty throw open my front door. His face appeared behind mine in the mirror, mouth open in shock.

I cried, "I can't change it, Uncle Morty, I can't change  _anything_! I've tried and nothing happens. Oh gods, what if I'm stuck like this for the rest of my life?"

Wrapping me in a comforting hug, Morty let me cry on his shoulder while one of his hands stroked my mousey brown hair.

 


	20. Heart of the Moon

 

I'd strolled into Auror Headquarters with every shade of hair known to man and my imagination. Not once had any of my wildest hairstyles received one quarter the attention my newest look did. From the moment the double doors parted, heads had turned. Senior staff arched eyebrows. Kingsley stuck his head out of his office to ask, "Are you on surveillance today?"

Without stopping my trek toward the back of beyond and my own tiny cubicle, I said over my shoulder, "Do I  _look_  like I should be on surveillance?"

"Yes," he said bluntly, dark gaze flickering over my wan features and limp, mousey brown hair.

I shrugged and trudged onward. Harriet “the spy” asked as I passed, "Is that your new style?"

I deadpanned, "Gulch digs it." When she fingered her own shoulder-length mousey locks thoughtfully, I rolled my eyes and moved on.

"Ruddy hell, what's with the change, Tonks?" Connolly, of the sloppy desk and Gryffindor bold tongue, leaned over his cubicle wall to demand incredulously.

The Auror with the looks and eagerness of a Wizard Scout received a sneer that a Slytherin would envy. "I got tired of being treated like a sex object."

Inexplicably, he flushed beet red and mumbled, "Merlin, I'm sorry," before ducking out of sight.

A chuckle sounded. I turned to see Tom leaning against his cubicle doorway. I asked, "How can you do that without collapsing every wall like a ruddy house of cards?"

"It's a gift." He followed into my space that was now tidier than his. Expression changing from amused to grim and then upset; he looked from Gulch's memo praising my organisation currently pinned to the miniature dartboard on the wall to my hair. Fenton thundered like the Nordic god he resembled, "I'm about to do an intervention on your arse!"

"Why? Has it gone to hell with the rest of my life?"

Pale blond brows drew together. He shook his head at my tone, caught sight of Julia, and said, "She's your best mate. Do something!"

Covering her mouth with her hands like the heroine in a horror film, Julia wailed, "Good gods, your hair!" She moved forward, tears in her eyes and voice. "You must really feel like shit. I'm sorry I didn't say something before now. I'm not used to being the one giving romantic advice."

I sat at my desk and picked up a file. "I'm not up for a pep talk, Jul."

Tom snatched the folder out of my hands. "You're not up for anything. You're in complete denial, and it's got to stop!"

Julia placed a calming hand on his arm. "What Tom is trying to say is—"

"Sorry to interrupt, I just got assigned a case…with Tonks…marked urgent." Connolly's boyish, freckled face looked apologetic, but I leapt at the opportunity to escape.

"Jerry, right? Let’s go." I brushed past my friends and pulled my new partner by the sleeve to get him to walk faster. He cleared his throat as we left the Auror offices. "If I apologise again for the…you know…objectification…would you please change your hair?"

I said wryly as we waited for a Floo to become available, "I can't morph right now, so we're both stuck."

After stammering, “Sorry,” he filled me in on the particulars of our case and gave me a hesitant smile. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Feeling eons older, if not wiser, I patted him on the shoulder. "Floo's open."

Once we stepped out of the public Floo at Knockturn Alley, I flashed my badge at a grimy warlock giving us the evil eye and asked Jerry, "Ever been to this area before?"

His eyes were darting around. "I've, uh, mostly been assigned to assist the law offices in jury selection, to avoid jurors with Dark auras and prevent Dark objects from entering the courtroom."

I took that as a no. “Let me do the talking." My partner nodded amiably and followed as I led the way to a block of flats that had an air of genteel poverty, much like the people who lived there.

"Weren't you the one who came before? Your hair is more suitable now." Mrs. Underhill, wearing a thick cardigan over her wool dress, noticed my partner and smoothed her wispy hair. She said with a pleased smile, "Come inside. I’ll make tea."

Jerry sat on the Victorian settee a bit too precipitously and slid off. His stifled expletive made me smile a little as I hauled him back up to sit on the Scotch guard charmed furniture. I waited until the dithery woman handed my partner his tea before saying, "I fail to see why the report was filed, much less coded urgent, Mrs. Underhill. In your statement, you admit that there have been no suspicious noises or other evidence of Dark magic. What cause do you have to accuse your neighbour this time?"

Perching on her chair, ankles crossed demurely, the old biddy peeped, "Because I learnt down at the senior centre that Mr. Dunne…he's a…a  _werewolf_." When Jerry said, “Really?” her face lit up. "Oh, yes, and I'm most concerned.  _The Quibbler_  ran an article that said the  _disease_  could be spread by a sneeze or a handshake, for all we know, and the Ministry is keeping that knowledge secret because they're afraid werewolves, who are deep into the Dark Arts, will go on a rampage if not placated."

Connolly was the boy-next-door type, but his neighbourhood was one of  _normal_  witches and wizards. He threw me a sideways glance, unsure how to respond to Mrs. Underhill's claims. I pointed to the birdcage on a side table. "See that? Lining the bottom is what the  _Quibbler_  is good for if you're reading it for facts, not entertainment, ma'am." I withdrew a pad and started writing. Handing the woman a citation, I smiled tightly. "That's a warning for false report. You make another one, and you'll be selling your parlour set to pay the fine. Do you understand?"

"But…but…"

I said, "Unless you are bitten by a werewolf, you cannot become one, and for you to believe otherwise contradicts the saying that age brings wisdom. Good day."

Once in the corridor, I marched over to the next flat and knocked on the door. After a few minutes, David Dunne opened it and looked from me to my partner before saying, "I liked your other look better. Come in." Inside the flat, David asked, "What can I do for you Auror Tonks, Auror…"

"Connolly." Jerry held out his hand. David shook it with raised eyebrows.

I told him, "Mrs. Underhill found out that you're a werewolf and made a complaint. I gave her a warning for false report, and the fine's pretty stiff if she makes another one, so hopefully she'll either move or find something else to fixate on."

"She seems pretty keen on Bingo," Jerry said. "She had a stack of about a dozen cards on the side table." Observant of him. I was impressed and it showed. His smile was wide and proud.

David said, "Good for her. Did you drop by just to tell me that?"

I pulled out the card Remus had given me with the address of the rare bookshop on Charing Cross road. "Here. I heard the owner is about to advertise for part time help."

"This Remus J. Lupin, he the owner?"

I said gruffly, "No, he's a friend of the owner, and a werewolf."

David looked hopeful. "Thanks."

I was already headed for the door. "Don't mention it. Say hello to Jenny for me."

"She'd like it better if you did it in person. Misses girl talk, she says."

Pausing at the door, I asked where she worked and what time she got off. David smiled. "I'll tell her that you'll be stopping by."

Once we left the building, I caught Jerry eyeing me. I asked, "Are you still shocked by my hair, or is it starting to grow on you?"

He grinned. "It's awful. Back there, though, that was cool, and I thought maybe you'd like to know it's not just your metamorphosing that makes you sexy."

"Gee, thanks." Returning his smile, I punched him in the arm, hard.

 

My new pal Jerry and I went out twice more. I told him to take lead both times and sat blending into the upholstery while he did a good job leading witnesses through the standard questions. Neither of the alleged Dark wizards were any such thing, but Jerry was chuffed with himself for handling the cases in a professional manner. I told him to feel free to take charge of writing up the final reports as well. Back at the Ministry, I gave him robes to throw over my chair—to make it look as though I was still in the building—and waved him through the double doors while heading for the stairs.

On the Atrium floor, I opened the stairwell door and scanned for anyone who might throw a spanner into my plan to skive off. The coast was clear, so I darted for the nearest Floo. A dignified member of the Wizengamot huffed indignantly when I cut in front of him, "Well, I never!"

Grabbing a handful of Floo powder, I replied cheekily, "Try a personal ad in the  _Prophet_."

I snickered softly to myself while exiting the central Floo station. A few passer-bys threw alarmed looks my way, but that was preferable to pitying glances at my hair. Taking a moment to get oriented, I strode toward Jenny Dunne's place of employment.

The Notting Hill coffee shop was a surprise. It was Muggle. I wondered what the pound/Galleon exchange rate at Gringotts was these days. Hoping for the Dunnes' sake that the pound was still sound, I opened the door and looked curiously around the bright, modern café. Business was brisk, but most customers were just dashing in for takeaway. I sat down in a comfy chair in the small area arranged for that purpose and waited for Jenny to get off work.

"Here, on the house."

I looked up from the Muggle equivalent of the  _Intruder_ —my, film stars were naughty—to say, "No, coffee here costs a mint. I can conjure…I mean buy my own."

Jenny, who'd changed from the uniform other servers were wearing, placed the over-sized mug on the table beside me and sat down in an adjoining chair. "I don't drink coffee, so I pass on my gratis cups to David, or in this case, you."

"Well, if I'm not dipping into your wages." I took an appreciative sip before asking, "What's a nice witch like you doing in a Muggle shop like this?"

"The pay and the fact that they can't do a Ministry background check and turn me down because my husband's a werewolf."

I looked around. Nobody was nearby, thankfully. In a low voice, I asked, "People really do that? Discriminate against spouses too?"

"Unfortunately." With determined cheer, she said, "David told me about the possibility of a job. Thank you." When I shrugged it off, Jenny asked, "The wizard's card that you gave him, Remus J. Lupin, I recognised the name from editorials in the paper. Is he your partner?"

All at once, my eyes filled with tears. "I dunno." Unlike some, who would've excused themselves and retreated from an emotional scene, Jenny told me that if I wanted to share, she'd be happy to listen. Words poured out of me in a painful gush. I felt rejected and confused, like everyone knew something I didn't and it made me shirty and miserable at the same time.

"After the attack, David offered me a divorce."

Whatever I'd expected her to say, that wasn't it. Jenny gave me a look that I'd probably given Connolly when his naiveté showed. "He didn't think it was fair for me to have to live with his condition, to support us and risk being harmed every full moon."

"What changed his mind?"

Her smile was reminiscent. "I gave him the only reason that counted. I loved him, for better or for worse." Laughing softly, Jenny said, "Although we're on the poorer end of the scale, with David in my life I feel rich in love, which makes the struggle worth it."

The front door burst open while I sat feeling as though a Muggle bomb had been tossed into the shop, blowing me away. My new friend jumped up when she heard, "I got the job, Jenny love, I got the job!"

They embraced while the staff smiled and customers stepped around them. Blinking madly, I asked, "Did you just come from the bookshop?"

"Yeah." David grinned. "Lupin and the owner were in the back, and I got hired on the spot." He announced proudly, "I start work tomorrow."

"Is Remus still there, do you know?"

"No, he was going to take his dog for a walk in the park."

I rushed past him with a hasty thanks and goodbye.

The askance looks I'd received snickering to myself were nothing compared to the ones my silent tears earned. Hurrying around the back of the building, I made sure no Muggles were in the vicinity before Disapparating.

Cami and Snuffles were playing tag on the green when I began walking toward Remus. He looked up from his book when the dog barked. Catching sight of me, he tossed it aside and stood. We met halfway across the common. His gaze flickered over my face and hair. I drank the sight of him in. A half smile curved his lips while he waited for me to speak.

Brushing off my cheeks with the backs of my fingers, I took a shuddery breath and said, "The reason why I lied, and kept things from you, why I couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt, and why I was willing to sleep with you to prove that I care…"

"Yes?" He prompted gently when I had a hard time continuing due to the ache in my throat, and the fear that I was setting myself up for a rejection that I would never recover from.

The look in his eyes gave me the courage to say, "I love you, with all my heart, and without you my world, like my hair, is colourless… _crap."_

He smiled, cupping my face. "I love you, with a heart that's yearned to hear you say those words so much a part of me wants to howl for joy." Remus kissed me instead. A sweet, tender kiss that deepened into an embrace that made me want to laugh and cry and even howl for joy from the rush of love given and received that washed over me.

"Tonks…you're  _pink!"_

Snuffles began barking when Cami laughed. I opened heavy eyelids. Remus grinned. "Your hair…it's pink." His fingertips brushed my face. "Like your cheeks." His gaze and head lowered. "And your lips." I kissed the mouth brushing mine with all the pent-up passion I could display in public, sinking my fingers into his hair and straining to get closer to the man I'd missed, and loved so much.

 

The weekend after the rest of London celebrated Bonfire Night, the new Lord Mayor put on a show to celebrate the start of the mayoral year. Crowds wrapped up against the chilly weather thronged the riverside. I thought that the men who were willing to board explosive-laden barges to let off fireworks on the Thames between Waterloo and Blackfriars Bridge were either brilliant or mental. Standing with Remus's arms around me in the public gallery on the eighth floor of the Oxo Tower, I said, "We've got the best view on the river."

Remus chuckled, while to his right Tom said, "Last year we had a good vantage point at the Embankment." Julia agreed with a smile.

On my mate's other side, Jenny Dunne said, "We watched them from Gabriel's Wharf, and had an excellent view, didn't we, David?"

"Yes, and luckily this show is before the full moon." He seemed to be gauging the others' reaction. When no one acted as though the remark was anything out of the ordinary, David relaxed.

"I wonder if I had the letters of my name made out of glass for the shop window, the Ministry would consider them 'elemental geometric forms' the way Muggles did." Alan Rocher mused on Remus's left.

"Instead of a clever ruse to bypass the advertising ban? I think not, _Môn Coeur_." Jan affectionately squeezed her husband's arm.

David said, "I've heard some dogs get upset hearing fireworks go off. Is someone watching Snuffles, Remus?"

In the low light, Remus's eyes gleamed amber when he looked at me. He answered, "Yes, our friend Cami volunteered to keep him tonight. She spoils him terribly, which he enjoys." In a voice that was deceptively light, he said, "When he eventually goes…back to his true owner, I hope the separation won't be too painful for them."

My heart sank, knowing that Remus's words came too late. Sirius had told me outright that if he wasn't convinced Harry might soon need his support he'd tell Cami the truth. My friend had been teary when we'd left them earlier; petting Snuffles lovingly and vowing to take such good care of him that his absentee master would see that he belonged with her always. I didn't see how that situation could be resolved happily, but romantic sap that I was, I hoped that it would be, somehow.

Surrounded by old friends and new, I leaned back against Remus and turned my head to look up at his face. The imminent full moon made his features appear care-worn and tired, but he was breathtakingly handsome to me. I whispered, "I love you."

His arms tightened around me, and a strand of Remus's hair caressed my cheek as he leaned down for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pan…you're pink" is the quote from Peter Pan after Wendy gives him a thimble, which of course is really a kiss. I thought it appropriate for Remus's love and kiss to put the colour back into Tonks's world…and hair. I hope readers enjoyed this story and will be on the lookout for the next one, A Wolf in the Moonlight, in which Tonks looks for a missing girl with the help of Remus and his “dog” Snuffles.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't claim to be the brilliant Ms. Rowling, as she didn't give plucky, clumsy Tonks a black sheep Uncle or an EastEnders watching Gran like a cheeky writer named Kerichi did. This story is set GoF and was inspired by a love of Tonks and Remus and first-person female detective novels by authors like Sue Grafton, Sara Paretsky, and Charlaine Harris. Using Fenrir Greyback and Bill Weasley as examples of men who retain wolfish tendencies, the fic takes the viewpoint that Remus Lupin has a few qualities that he keeps hidden from most, although he remains true to his characterisation of a quiet intellectual and a gentleman. This story is more focused on the magic of love and personal relationships rather than mystery or suspense, although they're important, too, and love is the biggest mystery of all.


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